Sandcastles in the Sky
by AnonymouslyAddicted
Summary: Clear my sky, build me some sandcastles, protect me from the unknown.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Welcome to my new angsty multi-chapter story! I will try my best to update quickly but I cannot promise anything, since I am writing it chapter by chapter. So please bear with me! Suggestions and advices will be happily received! And of course comments of any kind make my day, so please, do that :) hope you'll like this!

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 **Sandcastles in the Sky**

Elizabeth McCord is a practical woman. It was a given, from the day she was born. If you needed someone to get the job done – she was the right person. She wasn't driven by emotions, and she always looked at the bigger picture, searching for all possible outcomes before making a calculated decision. Nothing was ever rushed, never spare of the moment. It was why that day it all went as planned. It was why she never panicked.

It was a regular morning at the McCord residence. Still in bed, she rolled over to her still sleeping husband and curled up his side, sneaking an arm under the covers and around his waist. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him, shifting so her head fitted in the crook of his neck, his own chin resting carelessly on her forehead. If there was one thing Elizabeth McCord loved the most it was this – lying in bed with her husband. The only problem was that he recently chose to be a couch potato, and had all the time in the world to just stay in bed, while she, reluctantly, had to leave the warmth of his cocoon, the softness of his lips dancing on hers. She tried to untangle herself from his embrace, but he tightened his grip, willing her to stay, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Don't go" he muttered, his husky voice rubbed with sleep. "Just a few more minutes".

She sighed in frustration and kissed his cheek before pulling herself out of his embrace. "I'm sorry" she whispered, letting her lips trace their way to his. He woke up by then, the feeling of her tongue brushing his lips, asking for permission he gladly granted her, allowing her tongue into his mouth as his hands began to roam her body. He groaned when she pulled away fiercely to break their contact and left their bed, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Standing under the spray of hot water with her eyes closed, she sighed. It was only Tuesday but she was so tired, and all she really wanted to do was stay at home with Henry. She smiled at the thought of him, her fingers moving on the necklace they both shared. It was when her hand moved down to soap her breast that her eyes opened wide. Everything from that moment on was a blur, a mixture of check lists and actions, emotions set aside, working on automatic as she did what she planned to do for this precise moment.

She had a plan. As a practical person, she knew she would need a plan. Otherwise the fear would eat her up alive. It would paralyze her. It would be everything that she is.

Stepping out of the shower she walked over to her phone. "Dr. Miller's office. 10:00" she typed. Her phone buzzed seconds later, "will meet you there" the text read and she nodded in some sort of relief that her plan was still on schedule. As long as everything was working, she could hold herself together and not fall apart. It was much easier swallowing the lump in her throat as she watched her beautiful Henry sleeping soundly, peacefully, carelessly, in their bed. Soon, she thought, their own little paradise might be rocked. Maybe even broken. Her fingers reached for her necklace again, clinging to the thing that was suppose to be her protection. There were things this couldn't protect her from. And this was the one thing she dreaded the most.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : Thank you thank you thank you for all the reviews! I am sorry but as I said, yes this is going to be sad. Apologies in advance. Also, sorry for the 666 words for last chapter I honestly didn't notice that! Sorry too that this is not a long update either, I thought you'd prefer a short update than no update at all? Anyway, thank you again! You rock! More reviews please, because I'm greedy and I love them!

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Isabelle Barnes was used to receiving text messages asking her to report to duty. As a CIA analyst she lived from one phone call to the other, jumping out of bed to find herself in a mission half way across the globe. But unlike any other mission, and unlike any other work text, this was one she wished to never receive. She knew the drill. Elizabeth provided her with a step-by-step plan that she memorized by heart, just in case. She hated the fact that her phone could go off at any minute with that message she dreaded so much. When her phone buzzed that morning she set the newspaper aside, only to jump off her chair at the reading of the words appearing on her screen.

She knew Elizabeth for almost three decades. They met in boarding school and became best friends right away, following each other's foot steps into college and later into the CIA. She knew everything about her, which is why she wasn't surprised Elizabeth picked her up to be her pillar for this. She was also not surprised when Elizabeth decided to keep this from Henry for as long as she could, until finally telling him only to make a pact – he will only known if it ever became something other than a simple threat.

She was pacing outside the doctor's office when she spotted Elizabeth's motorcade approaching, letting out a breath at the sight of her stepping out of the car. She needed to see her, walking, as if this was already threatening to steal her away forever. When Elizabeth walked over to her, Isabelle offered her a soft smile and they walked inside together, not saying another word.

Dr. Miller had known Elizabeth since she was 25. It was on her birthday that she first came to see him, asking for the answers that were bound to change her life forever. It was always there, in the back of her mind, since the day she was old enough to actually understand the meaning of this. It was why at 25 she scheduled an appointment and decided it was time to stop living in the _maybe_ , that it was finally time to know. Whatever the results were, she would handle it. Not knowing was much worse. He will probably never forget that day. She walked into his office, this confidant young woman, stunning in her beauty, but more than that – stunning with her knowledge and her wisdom. At 25, he never thought he would meet someone so mature. He will never forget the day he received her results, knowing he was about to change her life forever, only to be surprised once again by how she handled the news, how she stayed calm and calculated, already having a plan he couldn't argue with. Elizabeth was well prepared, and gathered all required information before deciding. She will come for a mammogram every year, and she will monitor anything she could. She will come immediately if anything happens, no matter what. And he promised to accept her calls at any time of the day, praying he would never have to. When his beeper buzzed that morning, alarming him that she was on her way, he took a deep breath and said a silent prayer, hoping it was just a scare, nothing more.

Meeting her that morning, he smiled, once again amazed by the strength of her, in her. She was standing in front of him, determined to do what was needed, practical, realistic, not shedding a single tear. When she lied down, his fingers found it – god how he hoped she was wrong. She jumped when he applied pressure to the massive lump and he offered an apologizing smile, only to receive a simple nod from her- _it's okay_ , her eyes spoke, _I'm brave_ , and she really was.

"I should have the results of the mammogram tomorrow. I will schedule a biopsy if needed".

She thanked him, reading the unspoken words he didn't dare to say just yet – it didn't look good, and he was quite sure it was bad news. As they left the room, Isabelle reached for her hand, smiling softly at her, squeezing. _I'm gonna be here tomorrow_ , she said without words and a silent thank you was written in Elizabeth's eyes.

That evening she moved slowly around the house, quietly. She was stirring the pasta, drowned in million thoughts. She jumped when Henry rested his hand on the small of her back, when his warm breath tickled her skin as he whispered in her ear.

"Babe, are you okay?"

With a fake smile on her lips she met his gaze and nodded as she leaned to peck his lips. "Really tired" she muttered, "and in desperate need to fall asleep in your arms".

He chuckled, pressing his lips to hers in a deeper kiss. "Leave the pasta" he breathed on her lips, taking her hand in his and leading her up the stairs.

Settling under the covers, he pulled her tight against his body, letting his warmth cover her cold skin, his beating heart lulling her to sleep. "You can close your eyes now baby".

She was thankful that the room was dark because her eyes shimmered with tears that she tried to stop. _If only he knew_ , she thought. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep. She dreamt of her mother that night, of her last days, of her last words. She was sitting next to her in that awful hospital bed, her mother's bold head resting against the pillow, her skin a matching color of the pillowcase. At 14, Elizabeth watched as her mom took her last breath; and in her dream, it was her in that bed, no hair, slowly fading away. She awoke to the deafening sound of the alarm clock, pulling her out of her dream and back into her reality. She wasn't ready to face the day. Unwillingly, she carefully got out of bed to start her daily routine.

It was noon when Blake came into her office with lunch, that her phone rang – Dr. Miller. She waited until she was alone again to take the call, where he was yet to confirm her worries. She was scheduled for a biopsy later that evening. Hopefully, he said, it was a benign mass, harmless. _Hopefully_.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : Okay, sorry for taking so long. I went back to work, and you know the drill. Also, I struggled a little with this, mostly because I wasn't sure if it was true to the characters or not. I hope it works. I changed the age she went to get the test in the previous chapter, as RenDot was kind enough to let me know the test wasn't available when she was 21. Thanks for that! And thank you all for the help (oneapotheosis, RenDot, lil'mousie323 and Vpowervibeke) I'm going to bug you a lot more in the future of this story as I honestly know nothing about this subject. Feel free to jump in if you want to help, I take all the advice I can get! So well, angst and all. Will balance with a fluff story soon, I promise. Comments, please please please!

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Henry McCord followed the voice of reason at most times. At others, he followed the logic and comfort he found in so many great leaders of the world, saints of various religions. It was there that he usually found the answers to questions that burned through him, and it was his own religion that was the solace when he felt lost. That was, until he met Elizabeth. She came into his life like sun on a rainy day, brightening his day, and later his life. It didn't take him long to decide he wanted her to be his, and it wasn't long after that he realized there would never be a _him_ without _her_ again. He almost found it funny how it was pouring rain the day she came home with the news. They started talking about getting pregnant, and she decided it was time to take the test. She needed to know, for the baby's sake, but mostly for hers. He only knew bits and pieces, she didn't want to share much until she got the results. She told him she didn't want to worry him, in case there was nothing to worry about. But they have been together for over 4 years at that point, and he knew her all too well – she was too afraid of things he would never be able to understand truly, things that made her build the walls he slowly had to break to get inside. He knew, the minute he started peeling layer by layer of her, that even in 30 years from then, he would still find those places where she was just her, and he wasn't allowed in. Some things, he realized, were unfixable. She broke the news to him, she had it – that awful, dreadful, gene that will forever be a threat to her life. He broke down and cried, and she held him tight, promising that everything will be alright, though she was scared to death herself. The next day she came to him with a plan, a pact. She couldn't handle crashing his heart like that. She couldn't handle the pain of hurting him, not unless it was real. He refused with all his heart, but she already made up her mind. _This is mine_ , she said, _and we'll do it my way_. He could no longer argue. He accepted her promise that she will tell him if, or _when_ , it would be more than a threat. He trusted her, with all his heart. But still, he kept track of when she went to her annual mammogram; he needed to pay more attention, to try and read her through her walls. Just in case she decided not to tell him after all.

Isabelle met her outside the clinic that evening. They barely exchanged words at this point, the steps were clear to both of them and there really wasn't much left to be said. Isabelle thought about suggesting telling Henry, but she knew Elizabeth, and she knew she wasn't ready yet. Truth was, Isabelle was still hoping herself that this was not what they both thought it was; that there really was no point in stressing Henry when it was basically nothing. It's what she told herself, and it was what Elizabeth told herself too.

Elizabeth lied down on the bed, a surgical drape covering her shivering body. She felt the nurse's hands touch her skin as she applied the antiseptic, hearing Dr. Miller as he explained what he was about to do, when he showed her the needle that would soon be used to sample her lump.

"Elizabeth, are you okay to start?" he asked.

She nodded, turning her head to the other side and closing her eyes. She couldn't look, it was bad enough that she saw the 4mm needle. Isabelle took her hand and squeezing it tight and Elizabeth was thankful at that moment that she wasn't there alone. There were only a few things that terrified her. Needles was one of them. There wasn't much logic into why she was so afraid of needles, and it was one of those fears that were against everything that Elizabeth was. But ever since she was a little girl, she was scared to death of needles. Over the years, she somehow managed to find her ways for dealing with it, but at that moment nothing was calming her down. She was so scared already.

Dr. Miller's hands searched for the lump and she jumped again when his fingers pressed against it. And then she felt the pressure of the needle going in. She shut her eyes tight, grinding her teeth and fisting her hand in the sheet as the needle twisted inside. The whole thing didn't take more than a minute, but it felt like forever and she could feel every movement the needle made, the feeling of burn against her skin. She let out a breath when the needle was finally out, blinking back the tears of pain that formed in her eyes. She looked at Isabelle, still holding her hand, nodding a silent thank you to her.

She dressed slowly, still feeling the pain of the procedure, the fatigue. Isabelle helped her to the car and then walked her home, a subtle reminder that she wasn't alone, not anymore. Elizabeth walked into the house, slowly. She was pale as nauseas was quickly taking over her, shivering as waves of pain washed over her.

"Baby?" she heard his voice, turning to meet his concerned gaze. Stevie was standing next to her, wearing a worried look as well.

He was about to walk over to her when she lifted her hand to stop him. "I'm…" she swallowed hard, "I'm not feeling so well, I think I'm going to go lie down".

Stevie and Henry looked at each other, worried. It was rare that Elizabeth was sick, and it was even more rare that she admitted to not feeling well, and actually lied down. This was bad, they both realized. Stevie nodded as Henry moved to follow Elizabeth upstairs, watching him as he disappeared into the dark hallway. He opened the bedroom door to find her kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing her guts out. Walking over to her, he picked up her hair, holding it for her as she vomited. He helped her stand when she finished, leading her to the sink so she could wash her mouth and her face. He urged her to drink some water before wrapping a firm arm around her waist and carrying her to bed. Tucking her hair behind her ear, he looked at her – she was pale, her eyes red and swollen. She looked exhausted, drained. He kissed her temple, his hands moving to the hem of her blouse. She stopped him, meeting his eyes then.

"You'd be more comfortable if you get out of these clothes" he said.

"I can get dressed by myself".

"I know" he chuckled, "but I love taking care of you".

His smile was genuine. But it took just one second to make it fade away completely. "Henry" she breathed and he backed away, his hands leaving her body.

"I will go get you some more water". She could see the pain in his eyes, the hurt. She didn't mean to do that. But the bandage that covered a part of her breast was bound to make him realize exactly what was going on, and she wasn't ready. Not yet. _Tomorrow_ , she thought. After she earned some sleep.

He entered the bed next to her, pulling her to him, his arms circling her body, his lips tracing gentle kisses along her shoulder. "Wake me up if you feel nausea again".

She nodded, her heavy eyes closing. "I'm sorry" she mumbled before falling asleep, and he was left to wonder – what exactly was she sorry for?

He woke up when she jumped out of bed, following her to the bathroom and waiting until she emptied her stomach once again. He wrapped his arms around her trembling form, her face buried in his chest as he hugged her. He felt her tears stain his shirt, silent, almost unnoticeable. He moved to face her, his thumb wiping away the tears, his eyes trying desperately to read her. "Baby, what?"

"Can you get me something for the pain?" her voice was just above a whisper, her words barely audible.

His eyes grew dark, his face wearing anxiety. This was more than just a virus, he realized. Something happened, something bad enough to make her feel like this, to admit that she was in pain. He helped her back to the bed, retrieving a glass of water and Ibuprofen for her and allowing her to settle back into the comfort of his embrace.

"Tomorrow", she whispered, "I promise". He watched her as she slept through the rest of the night, his mind racing, not giving him a break. He needed to know, the burning questions in his mind wouldn't quiet down. He was picturing the worse because he knew that only the worse would make her keep this from him.

He reached for the alarm clock when it buzzed, awakening her with the loud sound that filled the room. It was quiet then, and she rolled over to meet his eyes. She looked at him, her fingers moving slowly along his features, learning the lines on his face, although she knew them by heart. If only she could take away the pain she was about to cause him, the worry, the fear. If only she could promise him that this was just a nightmare, that she wasn't facing her biggest fear. She wanted them to wake up and realize it was just a bad dream. She wanted so badly to turn back time to when she didn't know. To when she was blissfully unaware. But she was scheduled to receive the results of the biopsy that evening, and she could no longer keep this from him. She needed to hold his hand while the doctor broke the news she already knew. She owed him explanations for everything that happed. And mostly, she needed his comfort, the warmth of his hug. Elizabeth was strong. Though. But when it was just them, when he was holding her against his body, that was when she _finally_ allowed herself to fall down. She knew he would catch her.

She pecked his lips before sitting, slowly taking her shirt off. Her breasts fell loose, exposing the bandage that covered her skin, stained with dried blood. He sat up quickly, his eyes growing wide. All the pieces were suddenly falling together, and it was so clear – everything. The worst has happened. It was no longer some crazy thought he tried to brush off. It was real. Vivid.

"I had the biopsy last night. It's why I wasn't feeling well. I… We get the results tonight. That is if you can join me".

He tried to sallow back his tears, but to no avail. He wanted to cling to the fact that this was not yet official, but he knew how to read between the lines. He understood that while the actual results didn't arrive just yet, she already knew. He watched her as she put the shirt back on, as she moved closer and crawled to his embrace. He dried his tears before wrapping his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her shampoo as he kissed her hair. "Will you?" she muttered.

"You'll never be alone" he mumbled, nodding to her question.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : Yeah right, I will write during the week. Who am I kidding? I promise you I try, but it's just not working. So of course this took forever to update, and I'm really sorry about this. Please keep in mind that I know nothing about this whole thing, and I literally have to conduct a research before I write (and thank you lil'mousie323 for all the help!) so this takes more time than any other story. Okay, so now that I apologized for taking forever, I want to thank you all so very much for all your reviews! You're amazing and you make me smile and be happy so really, thanks! Keep going please!

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It was common knowledge that Blake Moran was an excellent observer. It is why he made the perfect assistant, a job he maintained since he graduated from high school. He stumbled across the school's principal just a few days after graduation and he asked him for his help with some project he was working on in school. Blake ended up staying his assistant until collage began and he moved to New York. It was after three months at Columbia University that he found himself being the personal assistant to the head of one of the departments, and later on became the Dean's assistant. He was well known around the campus for the small details he knew about everything and everyone, and the others students would gather around him to get information they thought was essential. With a degree in public administration, he found himself at Elizabeth's house in Virginia, being interviewed by the most powerful woman in the US. Elizabeth began interviewing for a personal assistant before she even moved to Washington, before she even stepped into office and before her confirmation hearing. She needed to know she was bringing in someone of her choice. She knew, walking into that building as Secretary of State, that she would need someone from her court, rather than those who served under Secretary Marsh. She was impressed by his resume, but more than that, she was impressed by how he instantly observed every little thing about her, and it was what made her decide she wouldn't be interviewing the others who applied. Blake was perfect for the job. Two years into her position, she was constantly reminded that she made the right choice, always laughing about how little she pays him for everything that he does for her.

Working so close with her, spending most of his days around her, Blake knew everything about Elizabeth. He kept telling everyone this was the reason for the special bond they shared, but he knew this was mostly because of who she was, and the fact that he loved her like family.

Being the observer that he was, Blake noticed the sudden change in her. Elizabeth was the best at masquerading her emotions, and was even better at keeping things from the people around her. She asked him to clear her schedule and when he raised a brow to ask what for, she dismissed it by saying she had somewhere to be, someone to meet, that it was work related. Blake wasn't having any of it. He knew her too well, and he knew her schedule by heart. And in spite of her endless efforts to hide behind excuses of being tired, he knew something else was going on. He was seconds away from texting Henry when she walked into the office that morning, wearing the same tired expression she had the day before, and asked him to clear her schedule for the afternoon. He followed her into her office to take her coat and offer her some coffee, his eyes examining every inch of her, but nothing. He couldn't pinpoint what had changed, and it was worrying him that it was something serious enough to have her keep this from him like that.

"Ma'am" he called as he placed the boiling cup of coffee in front of her, "this is none of my business, but is everything alright?"

Meeting his eyes, Elizabeth smiled. She knew she hired him for a reason. "Perfectly fine, Blake. Really".

He nodded, though he wasn't even slightly convinced. Leaving her office, he glanced at her one more time, her smile still plastered on her face. He sighed as he closed the door behind him. It was times like this that he cursed the fact that he was so good at what he was doing. But not good enough.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. McCord" Dr. Miller said as he offered his hand. Henry nodded, shaking his hand politely, but they both glanced at each other, knowing there was really _no pleasure_ in meeting each other, and that they were both wishing they would never have to meet. Following Dr. Miller into his office, Henry rested his hand on the small of her back, feeling her tense muscles under his touch. He closed his eyes as he swallowed hard. There was nothing he wanted more than to pull her hand and take her away from there; take her to some place with no doctors, no disease, just them. She turned to look at him and he tried to smile but he was unable to. He knew he had to be strong for her, that he couldn't break. She needed him, now more than ever. But the fear was bigger than him, _stronger_ than him. She nodded. She understood, and she wanted so badly to tell him that it was okay. That he didn't have to be so brave, that neither did she. He moved to take her hand in his when they sat down, holding her tight, as if reminding her he was right there with her.

His eyes fixed on her, Henry didn't hear a single word Dr. Miller said. He just watched her, she sat there, calm, listening to the results of her tests, _malignant, stage II_ ; considering all the options of surgery, _mastectomy or lumpectomy_ ; understanding that she will need treatment after any surgical procedure, _radiation and_ _chemotherapy_ ; and of course, the inevitable talk about a preventive treatment, _a reduce risk treatment_. He squeezed her hand, but it was more a reminder for him than for her. She turned to meet his eyes, _I'm okay_ , her eyes said as her fingers moved on his wedding ring. But he knew she wasn't. He was the one to hold her that morning when she broke down in his arms, when she finally allowed herself to feel. He waited patiently for Dr. Miller to answer all her questions, his eyes still not leaving her. He refused to let her shut herself again; he refused to let her bury her fear in this image of a strong woman she held. Not with him. With him she had to find a place to be just her. Scared.

They walked into the SUV in silence and he took hold of her hand the minute they sat inside. He waited for her to talk; drawing patterns on her hand, he tried to coax her to open up to him, but the ride was so silent it was hurting his ears. It was when the car rolled down their street that she finally spoke.

"I need to tell the kids".

"Yes" he nodded.

"Stevie and Alison should get tested. And I should probably call Will. I need to talk to Blake, ask him to cancel all my meetings. And I should tell Conrad. And we still have to decide what we're going to do. And…"

"Elizabeth" he called. She turned to look at him, her eyes welled with tears she tried so desperately to hold back. "Stop. Hold on for a minute. Just, please. Breathe?"

"Hold on?" she spat in anger, "Henry, time isn't of the essence. I can't just _hold on_. I have no time to fall apart. This thing is threatening me. It's threatening _us_. And I won't just sit around and wait for it to happen. I have to…"

Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her to him, placing a gentle kiss to her hair. "Matt, can you please go around the block again?" Henry asked, realizing that once they enter their house, everything will change, and she will once again crawl back to her comfort zone. He needed her to take just one moment before putting on the mask of being so strong. "Let go" he whispered, his hand running up and down her arm. He felt her hand cling to his shirt as she buried her face in his chest and began to sob. He held her, waiting patiently for her cries to die down, his lips tracing kisses to her temple, his hand gripping her trembling form.

"Okay" she nodded, looking up at him as she spoke. Her eyes closed when he wiped her tears, when he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"We're going to figure this out together, okay?" when she nodded again, he opened the door and offered her his hand as he got out. "And we still have tomorrow" he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Blake bolted from his chair when Elizabeth walked into the office at 7am that morning. It was rare that she was there at this hour. Being the first ones at the office, Nadine and Blake exchanged a worried look as Elizabeth passed by them and entered her office. They remained in place, unsure of what to do next, as her schedule wasn't due to being before 8am. Turning around, she met their confused looks. "Are you coming, or what?"

Following her inside, Blake reached to take her coat, moving around the room to organize her desk and to get her coffee and the newspaper. "Blake will you please sit down? You're making me dizzy".

Nodding, he took the sit next to Nadine. Sitting at the edge of the chair, his leg moved nervously. He knew something was wrong, and he realized he was just about to find out just _how wrong_.

"I have a meeting with the President in an hour, so you're the first ones to know. And for the moment, you're the only ones to know".

Nadine narrowed her eyes, concern building up quickly as she listened to Elizabeth. "Deputy Secretary Cushing will be taking my place for the next few weeks. I'm still not quite sure about the time frame though, it could take more than that. I will try to be available over the phone for any emergency, but he's going to be in charge for a little while".

"Ma'am?" Nadine called, a questioning look on her face.

"I have cancer. Breast cancer. I'm scheduled for a surgery next week and after that I will need some treatment".

It was hours later when she finally left the office to find Blake sitting in Nadine's office. They held a glass of scotch in hand, each was deep in thoughts. They didn't hear her when she came in, only noticing her when she placed her bags on the chair. "Mind if I join you?" she asked and Nadine immediately poured the drink into a glass for her. Taking down her drink at once she hissed as the alcohol burned in her throat. "I wonder if the chemo will make me lose my taste. It's going to be quite sad to get drunk".

They all chuckled as Nadine and Blake downed their drinks as well. "You can ask questions if you want" Elizabeth said as the room fell silent again. The air felt heavy again and neither one of them knew what to say. It was then that Blake realized that sometimes, being an observer wasn't such a great thing. Being blissfully unaware was something he wished for more than anything at that moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** : Hey everyone! It's me, I'm still alive! I'm sorry for taking way too long to update. I have my excuses, but really I was just lazy. So yeah, I'm sorry about that. I really hope you're all still with me, because you are the best and your comments are awesome and I'm not very nice for keeping you hanging. So in case that you are still reading, please kindly leave your reviews because they are the best! Hope you'll like this, and I hope it's not the mess that I think it is. I got tired around the end (plus it's late, and I work tomorrow) so I skipped a part, will add it next chapter. Also, a special thanks to lil'mousie323, who is a huge help with this story! Girl, you're awesome!

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The house was dark when Elizabeth finally made it through the front door. She inhaled the scent of home cooked food and smiled at the thought of her family sharing a dinner. She sighed, then, realizing she once again missed it. Getting rid of her shoes, she walked over to the fridge, carelessly looking for anything proper to eat at this hour. Finding the plate of pasta that was reserved for her, she sighed in content. With her coat still on, she leaned against the counter and ate the cold dish, her mind drifting. She closed her eyes when she felt his hand wrap around her waist, his lips pressing softly to her cheek.

"Just because you missed dinner, doesn't mean you need to be punished. Sit down, I'll warm this up for you". Taking her plate, he watched as she took her coat off and took the sit near the counter.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" she smiled, reaching her hand for his as he walked over to her. Standing between her legs, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Love me" he whispered and she giggled, kissing him again.

She ate her dinner in silence, occasionally looking at him as his eyes never left her. He cleared her plate when she finished, watching her as she climbed the stairs quietly. He followed her upstairs, shutting their bedroom door behind him. He followed her into the bathroom, gathering the sweatshirt that she loved so much and a pair of pants. Leaning against the door frame, he watched as she stripped naked. She peeled off the bandage that still covered her skin and stepped into the steamy shower, her vision blurry under the drizzling water. He handed her the towel when she finished, and she met his eyes again, smiling.

"Henry, you don't have to follow me around, you know. I'm alright".

"I'm not following you around" he protested, "I'm waiting for you to finish so I can take you to bed" he grinned and she giggled.

"Nice try, Professor. But I know you all too well" she kissed his cheek, taking the clothes from him and walking back to their bedroom. "Besides, I was CIA, remember?"

"Always the same with you and your tradecrafts, isn't it?"

"Well, you knew what you were getting yourself into when we you decided to marry me". She settled under the covers, where he was already waiting for her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, her head moving to rest on his chest, her legs tangled with his.

"Best decision of my life" he kissed her hair and smiled at the feeling of her hand clenching to him as she nodded.

It was 4 in the morning when Henry awoke as his hand reached for the empty mattress next to him. Opening his eyes, the light of her laptop's screen lightened the room. He rubbed his eyes and pushed the covers off of him. He glanced at the screen for just a second – articles, pictures, blogs. _Cancer; Breast Cancer; chemotherapy; hair loss; nausea; chances_. Sometimes he hated how she always had to know everything. Reaching for the lid, he closed it, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"It can wait till tomorrow babe, it's 4am" he whispered as his lips brushed her cheek gently.

"No, Henry. It can't. I have a decision to make".

He sighed. There were some arguments that were a lost battle. "Okay then. Move over". He took the sit that was just hers and pulled her to sit on his lap, opening the lid and reading the words that quickly turned into a blur. He scrolled through the pages, his eyes landing on pictures she did not want him to see and she immediately shut the lid again. "Elizabeth".

"No, I…"

"Sweetheart, are you considering the double mastectomy?" his fingers grazed her light skin, moving her hair to the side so he can find her eyes that were avoiding him.

"Yes" she whispered, and her face turned away, desperately needing to hide from his piercing look.

"Okay" his voice was firm, just like the hold of his hand. She turned then, meeting his eyes, speaking truths he needed no words for.

"Henry, I can do the reconstruction surgery only after the chemotherapy is over". He nodded, he was present for the conversation with Dr. Miller, and while his mind was running a million thoughts per second, he still got some bits and pieces. "It means…"

"I know what it means, babe".

"And you're okay with that?" she pressed her lips together as the words came out, too afraid to listen to the answer he had for her.

He squeezed her hand and smiled, "yes" he simply said. _Yes_. It was what she wanted to hear, and yet for some reason, it scared her even more.

"Henry, I don't… I can't live with this fear anymore".

"Baby, you don't have to explain anything to me. This is your decision, and I support it".

"But what…"

He pressed a kiss to her lips, silencing her, taking her breath away. "But nothing. You are sexy and beautiful and it has nothing to do with your breasts. And I love you".

She nodded, a tear streaming slowly down her cheek. "But I do think you need to call your brother" he dried her face as he spoke.

"No, Henry. It will bring up too many painful memories. I don't think it's a good idea. And besides, there's nothing he can do".

"Elizabeth, he's still your brother. And he would want to know. He deserves to know". Reaching for her phone, he handed it to her, "come on, it's 11am in Syria. Perfect time to call him".

She sighed, reluctantly taking the phone from him and dialing his number. She wished he wouldn't pick up, _prayed_ actually. "Lizzie?" his voice called from the other end of the line and she closed her eyes. _Great_ , she thought. "It's 4am there, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just, I need to talk to you, is now a bad time?"

"No, not at all. I'm listening".

Still on his lap, Henry heard Will's words. He squeezed her hand, urging her on, reminding her he was there to support her, to hold her. "So, um, mom died of ovarian cancer, and, um, my doctor suggested I get tested for the BRCA gene" she trailed, suddenly unable to find the right words.

"You tested positive?" Will asked.

"Yes".

"Okay, but Lizzie, that's just the gene it doesn't mean…"

"They found a lump. In my breast. A tumor". The words quickly left her mouth, before he could say anything more. She had to say it, get it off her chest. It was easier than trailing off, she realized. She let out a breath then, her eyes closed. She focused on the feeling of Henry's touch on her skin, the warmth of his body.

"How bad is it?"

"Stage two. Spread to the lymph nodes".

"When is the surgery?"

"Next week, but…"

"Why aren't they doing chemotherapy first?"

"Because…" she trailed again. It was bad enough to speak to Henry about it.

"You're getting a double mastectomy". It sunk in slower than he expected. He was no Oncologist, but he knew that a surgery this quick, with no treatment before, could only mean the cancer was aggressive. But those were things doctors usually didn't elaborate on much with their patients, there was no point in stressing them out at this point. His baby sister was sick. This was now personal, real. "I'm taking the first flight. Who is your doctor? I want your medical file, and…"

"Will!" Elizabeth raised her voice, silencing him. "I just called to let you know. Don't come. I'm okay".

"It's not open for debate. I want to be there when they operate, and I want to know exactly what they plan to do. I couldn't help her, but I'll be damned if I don't help you".

She nodded, a silent understanding they shared, a pain only they could understand. She couldn't argue, she wouldn't. It wasn't just for her, he needed this for himself just as much. "I'll see you soon" she mumbled, swallowing back her tears and leaning against Henry's chest as his fingers ran up and down her arm.

Leading her back to the bed, he pulled the covers over them, wrapping his arms around her. "So how did it go with Conrad?"

He was trying to take her mind off of Will. He knew her that well to know that she was now worried, that she regretted ever making that call, all the while knowing Henry was right, and deep down, she was happy he was coming. "It was actually better than I expected" she replied, taking the bait. "He's going to let me keep the job. Deputy Secretary Cushing will assist of course, but I get to stay Secretary of State".

Frowning, he narrowed his brows, "are you sure you want to?"

"Want to what?"

"Stay Secretary of State".

She sat, moving from his hold. "You think I shouldn't?" she asked, her eyes widened in surprised.

"I think your health should be first priority".

"It is. I'm taking a step back".

Henry snorted. "Yeah, sure you are".

"Hey, that's not fair" she crossed her arms, feeling the anger building quickly.

"What's not fair is that I don't get to have a say in the matter. You already made up your mind without consulting with me".

"Because this is mine!" she yelled, "I'm the one having to deal with this, so I get to make the decision".

"Elizabeth, I'm right here with you, remember? I'm the one who will have to watch you wear yourself out with work, so that you're too weak to even go to the treatments. This is not just your decision".

She took a deep breath. He was right, it wasn't hers alone. And they never worked that way either. But she knew he would try and talk her out of this, and she couldn't let him. "Henry, don't make me sit at home all day, please. I can't play sick. I need the distraction, I need my life to stay as normal as possible. You heard Dr. Miller, I have two weeks between each treatment, so I can still work. Baby, I know you're worried, but I need this, please".

Henry scanned her, pausing at her eyes, lingering. He understood. Knowing her so well, he understood. Elizabeth was the last person to sit around the house all day, and if this is what she needed, he wouldn't deny her. "If I catch a glimpse of you feeling bad, you're staying home and I don't want to hear one argument against it, understood?"

She smiled, snuggling back into his embrace. "Understood. Thank you".

He tightened his grip around her tiny figure, coaxing her to close her eyes as his fingers ran up and down her skin in a soothing pattern. He, however, couldn't get his mind to quiet down. It was all becoming too real, too vivid, too close. She was ill, and he couldn't save her, not from this.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** : I can ramble here for hours on why I am only now posting a new chapter, but truth is I was stuck. Sorry. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! Thanks to Holly for helping me figure this one out. Hope you guys like this one. Not making promises on updating soon because I know I suck at those! Comments make me giddy! Thanks!

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It was an unusual Friday night. Unusual, because Elizabeth actually made it home in time to try and cook dinner for her family, before finally giving up and leaving the task for Henry. It was rare that they got to share family dinners together, even during the weekend. With her work, they cherished any minute they had to spend together, and she was always grateful when the world wasn't falling apart so she could retreat to her own little paradise at home. Problem was, while the world wasn't falling apart, hers seemed like it was.

She was lost in thoughts as she was cutting vegetables for the salad when Henry caught the look on her face. They were both unable to stop thinking, this thing was always present, a constant threat. But he hated seeing her like this, and it was one of his goals to distract her whenever he could. At least, whenever she was with him. He took the knife from her hand, forcing her to look at him as he smiled at her. He moved his fingers along her cheek, and a small smile crept up her lips. He pressed his lips to hers and they started moving against each other – tongues dueling, lips dancing, hands roaming each other. As their kiss got heated, she moaned into his mouth, pulling his body to her, making him lock her between his firm hold and the counter behind her.

"Eww!" Jason whined. Walking down the stairs and catching his parents in what seemed to be like a heated make-out session was not something he was expecting. Or enjoying. "Why do you call in a family meeting and then do _this_? You're damaging us for life, I'm telling you".

Suppressing their laughter, they broke apart from each other, not daring to meet Jason's face just yet. "Family meeting?" Henry whispered quietly to her, questioning.

"Yeah" she nodded, "we need to do this". Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it and nodded. It was his way of reminding her that if she ever loses that strength she always had, he would be there to hold her, to catch her if she fell.

They all gathered around in the living room, Henry taking the space near her, not leaving the hold of her hand.

"So, are you going to tell us what this is about? Or did you just invite us here to watch you make out?" Stevie teased, watching as Jason's face twisted in disgust, eliciting a giggle from her and Alison.

Whistling, Henry got their attention back, making the giggles quiet down. "Guys, come on, can you be serious for one minute?"

They all went silent, watching the expressions on their parents' face. They didn't notice it until then, the sadness, the scare. This was more than serious. This was something bad, they all realized soon enough. They exchanged looks, all of them on the edge, preparing for the news they were about to hear, wondering what was about to crash their world. "Okay so…" Elizabeth trailed. She might've called a family meeting, but she has yet to find the right words. She didn't want to hurt them, she didn't want to scare them. But the problem was, she had no words to make this look better. This was bad, and it was scary, and she had no idea how things will turn out. If only she could keep this from them, save them from the pain. The room was silent for a moment, and it felt like eternity. Henry ran a soothing thumb on the skin of her hand, making her meet his eyes. He nodded, urging her to continue. He was there with her.

"I found out that I have cancer" she finally said, watching as their eyes opened wide. "But I don't want you to worry. I'm going to have surgery, then I'm going to get some treatment and I'm going to be fine. I promise". She needed to reassure them, and Henry. She needed them all to know that she's not going to die, that she doesn't plan on dying. She wasn't her mother, she wouldn't leave her children without a mom. _If only it was up to her_ , Henry thought, if only she could really promise them that nothing will ever harm her.

"Where?" Stevie was the first one to speak.

"In my breast". She looked away, too scared to meet their eyes. Alison was sobbing quietly, her face buried in her hands. Jason had to swallow back his own tears, too much of a man to break down in front of his sisters. He got up from his seat and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her.

"What, no snarky comment?" Elizabeth teased as Jason left her embrace, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm saving it for when you're cured". Elizabeth nodded, but she could no longer hide the tears that formed in her eyes. She watched as Jason left the room, climbing up the stairs and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. She knew he needed his privacy to break down, and when Henry made an attempt to go after him, she pulled his hand, making him stay with her. She shook her head, and he nodded. _Later_ , he understood.

"Mom, didn't grandma die of ovarian cancer?" Stevie asked.

Meeting her daughter's eyes, she nodded. This was the part she was dreading the most, the understanding that she might have passed this horrible thing to her own daughters. She didn't want them to figure it out, to connect the dots. She wanted them to stay oblivious, unaware. She didn't want them to have to go through a lifetime of worrying, of dealing with this constant scare that hovered over.

"Isn't it genetic?" Stevie pushed, making Alison dry her tears and look at her mom.

"It is" Henry replied, noticing the struggle on his wife's face.

"It's why I'm having a double mastectomy" Elizabeth whispered, chocked by her tears.

"You have the gene" Stevie said, letting the realization sink in. "What about us?"

"I don't know" Elizabeth admitted, "it's your decision to get tested".

"When did you?" Alison suddenly spoke.

"When I was 25. The test just became available, and I could no longer live with not knowing. But this is your call, it's only up to you".

"Mom…" Stevie trailed, "it will come back, wouldn't it?"

"We don't know that Stevie. Your mom decided to have a preventive surgery for that reason. We can't know for sure. Just like we don't know that either one of you has the gene. We just… Take it one day at a time, okay? Mom is a fighter, she's going to be alright".

Hours later, she was still in the kitchen, cleaning after the dinner no one bothered to eat. She sighed. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that she was home to have dinner with her family. But she ruined it with the news of her disease, and they ended up spending their evening separately. They all needed their space to fall apart.

Henry was the only one to still keep her company, hovering over her as he has been doing since he found out. It's not that she minded the attention, but she wasn't sick, not yet anyway. She was capable of taking care of herself. For now. She finally managed to kick him out with the excuse that she longed for a hot bath, leaving her with the dishes and the uneaten food.

Before turning the lights off, she took one look at their silent house. It felt so empty without the noise of everyone around, so cold. Taking a deep breath, she began to climb the stairs, trying to brush off all thoughts she had. She couldn't break, not now. She had to be strong for her family for as long as she could. She opened their bedroom door, but he wasn't there. Walking inside, she started removing her clothes when she heard the muffled sound of sobs coming from their bathroom. She stood outside for a moment, just listening, allowing her own tears to fall before she went inside. Taking a deep breath, she wiped away the tears and carefully opened the door. He was sitting at the edge of the bathtub, holding a scarf she recently bought for her head. He found it when he was looking for her favorite bubble bath, suddenly hit by the realization of her illness.

"Henry" she whispered, walking over to him to take the scarf from his hand.

Standing up quickly, he wiped away his tears and cleared his throat, a desperate attempt to hide the fact that he has been crying. He even managed a fake smile, failing in convincing her of anything. She took the garment from him and placed it on the sink, her arms moving to wrap around him, pulling him to her.

He wrapped his own arms around her, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent. His own tears betraying him, he began to cry again, silent tears at first. She ran her hand up and down his back and it was then that he broke down again, shuddering in her arms, holding onto her tight. She said nothing. She just held him close, tight. She allowed him to break, to let the pain of the past few days come to surface. She knew that at that moment, he just needed her to be there with him, with no words. There was nothing she could say anyway. She was just as scared, just as unaware of the future.

Moving from her hold, he met her gaze. She reached her hand to his cheek, drying the tears that kept sliding down his face. She placed a gentle kiss to his temple and he let out a breath, swallowing hard as he was trying to stop the tears.

"Baby" he muttered, her voice shaky, broken. "I'm sorry…"

"Shh" she dried his tears once more, "you have nothing to be sorry for. It's okay".

"This scarf", he glanced at it, feeling the pain in his heart again, "it's too real. It's…" his hand ran in her golden locks. "I can't lose you Elizabeth. And the thought of losing parts and pieces of you just scares me. It scares me that at first it will be your hair and then…"

"Henry, my hair will grow back. It might take some time, but it will". She knew this wasn't about her hair, but it was the only promise she could make. If she will beat this thing, her hair will grow back. If.

"This could take you away from me" he said the words out loud, agony in his voice, fresh tears pooling at his eyes. "And there's nothing I can do to stop it".

"I will forever be yours, Henry". He nodded at her words, it was all the reassurance she could offer him.

She wiped his tears again and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She took his hand in hers and walked him back to their bedroom, and into their bed. Turning the lights off, she lied on her side, her hand moving softly on his cheek. He scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him.

"I love you, so don't die on me, okay?" he whispered.

She chuckled, and a tear slid down her face. "Copy that", she pressed her lips to his in a kiss. "I'll be a couch potato with you for a while, if you don't mind".

He smiled, sincere this time. "Good" he kissed her again, moving closer to her in bed and allowing her to crawl into his embrace. Sharing a pillow, they fell asleep, so close to each other, not wanting to ever be apart.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N** : Apologies for the long _long_ wait for this one. I had some sort of a block (as evidence in this chapter). I don't think I got over it, although some of you tried to help (thank you so much for that!). This is pretty messy and pretty shitty (who am I kidding, it's very shitty, I'm sorry about this). I am only posting because I figured I can't get any better than this. I need to move past this place I'm at with this story, get to a different point, and hopefully overcome this block. Anywayyyy, this is what I have to offer, so I hope it's still acceptable. Feel free to tell me how crappy this is. And thank you so much for the reviews on the last one! You're awesome!

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Dr. Will Adams hated the urban lifestyle. It was why he chose to be stationed in Syria, right in the middle of the desert. He hated the traffic, the noise, the big houses. After living in a refugee camp for so long, and after traveling around the globe to secluded villages in failed countries, there was nothing he hated more than coming back home to the luxurious life he had. Maybe it was a long lost hate from the time he lost his parents. As a child, nothing was ever missing. He had the fanciest toys, the newest. Growing up, he went to the best schools, got the best education. He had enough money to follow every stupid dream he ever had, spend it on things he never needed. It was only in his late 20's that he came to the realization that he wasn't cut out to this extravagant lifestyle. He packed a bag and joined Doctors of the World. It was where he met Sophie – another doctor who was searching for some life meaning, just like him. He thought, back then, that would forever be their bond, an understanding they share, one only they knew. But when Annie was born, Sophie no longer shared Will's view of the world. She needed to care for her baby girl and she had only hoped he loved them both enough to settle down. But he kept telling her he wasn't cut for this, that he couldn't change. So they had a deal; a deal he knew would never worked.

He took a deep breath as he stepped out of the cab. The street lights above his head, the sounds of cars passing by. It was rather quiet for that time of the day; rather chilly too. He pulled his coat tighter around his body as he crossed the street to her house. His baby sister's house. How did she turn into the woman that she was today, he would never fully understand. For him, she will forever be the noisy blonde with her dolls, running around the barn and playing with the horses. He still couldn't believe she held one of the most powerful roles in this country.

Entering the house, he inhaled the sweet scent of home. There was always something about coming to visit her. Maybe she reminded him too much of their mother, he couldn't tell. He dropped his bag on the floor and moved to her office to find her deep in a read of some report. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her tired eyes fluttering over the words.

"Lizzie" he called, keeping his voice low to not startle her. She looked up from the pages, meeting the familiar features of him and a smile spread across her lips. She dropped the papers and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him instantly. "You look exhausted" he stated the minute their eyes met.

"It's nice to see you too, Will" Elizabeth chuckled. "How was the flight?"

"Long. How are you feeling?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his question. He was never the perfect image of an older brother. It wasn't that he didn't care for her, but since her parents died when she was 13, she somehow turned into the older one around the house, and although he was, in fact, older than her, she was the one to take care of him. She was forced to grow up rather quickly, and was quick to fill in for her mother's absence. She found it funny how now, at 47, he suddenly decided she needed him to play big brother, to care for her. She was about to tease him about that when the front door opened and her heart skipped a beat because she knew it was _him_.

"Wow, I didn't hear you all the way out to the street, are you two alright?" Henry chuckled. "Hey brother!" he called, hugging Will. He moved to her, smiling genuinely. "Hi babe" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You're tired" he pointed, narrowing his brows.

"Exactly what I told her. Not that it did any good".

Henry laughed. "I walked in right on time, didn't I?"

He cooked them dinner and later he helped her settle under the covers. He watched her as she closed her eyes, as she quickly fell into sleep. He hated how she never admitted to being tired; anything that suggested she wasn't as strong as she thought she was. He thought that maybe this would get her to admit that she was, after all, only human. But she refused to let anything win. She always had to be stronger, _the strongest_. He sighed. Pulling his t-shit on, he closed the door carefully and climbed down the stairs. She needed the sleep, he couldn't afford to bother her.

"Can't sleep?"

"Jetlagged" Will replied, taking a sip from the beer in his hand. "What's your excuse?"

"Elizabeth" he admitted, sinking to the couch next to Will.

Will nodded, handing Henry the beer. "I know you want the end game, Henry. I do too. But we have to take it one step at a time, you know? Be grateful for the little things. They caught this in time because she has the gene, because she's so attentive to it. It's good. And she's a fighter. So we just see how things turn out – we will handle whatever comes our way".

"I can handle everything, Will. But I can't handle losing her".

It was after 2am when he crawled back into bed next to her. He carefully wrapped an arm around her figure, pulling her to his chest. She moved, adjusting in his arms. "Is it morning yet?" she mumbled, still half asleep.

"No" he whispered in her ear, "go back to sleep".

"Where were you?"

"Downstairs".

"Mh" she moved further into him, "don't leave, okay?"

He pressed a kiss to her hair, his hand moving on her abdomen, pressing her to him. "Never".

He groaned when the alarm went off, feeling her shifting, reaching to turn it off. He wasn't ready for the morning just yet. He wasn't ready to let her off of his hold, not yet. He held her tight and she sighed in content, allowing her eyes to close again. She could be late today, she would. He later woke her up with peppered butterfly kisses on her shoulder and her neck, moving slowly on top of her and allowing his lips to trace every inch of her neck. She moaned softly when they reached her lips, when he kissed her tenderly.

"A girl can get used to waking up like this, you know?"

He chuckled and kissed her nose. "Whatever I can do to keep you here longer". He didn't mean for the words to sound so morbid. He just didn't want her to leave for work. But deep down, he didn't want her to leave _at all_. And he would do whatever he can to keep her for as long as possible with him.

Walking into Matt and Daisy's office, Elizabeth was happy to find Jay there too. They stood at once, surprised by the visitor at their door.

"Sit" she instructed, smiling shyly. "I need to talk to you".

Sinking back into their seats, their expressions changed in a heartbeat. This had to be bad news. "Nadine and Blake already know, and I was hoping to keep this to myself, as this is private, but I understand I'm a public figure, and so some things are bound to get out. We need to get ahead of this, so I have to tell you. I will be gone from the office for about a week. Deputy Secretary Cushing will replace me during that time. I should be back to normal after that, but I'm still scheduled to treatments so I don't know if I'll be around much. Of course, if anything big happens, I'm available, but Deputy Secretary Cushing is going to be my backup for the next few months".

"Ma'am, are you…?" Daisy trailed.

"Yes" Elizabeth answered firmly. "Breast cancer. But the message is that I'm going to be fine, so this whole thing is only temporary".

Elizabeth let out a small sigh of relief when the phone is her hand vibrated. "I'm waiting outside, you coming?"

"Boy, am I glad to see you" Elizabeth said as she walked over to greet Isabelle.

"That bad huh? You sounded vague over the phone".

"Yeah. I could really use a drink".

It was only after Elizabeth downed her first glass of whiskey that Isabelle decided it was time to push. "Time to spill it out" she said.

"Honestly, Isabelle, I just want to pack a bag and run away".

"That's not going to change the fact that you're sick".

"No. It's not that. It's everyone around me. Especially the kids. And now Will. And Henry. Oh, Henry…"

"Well, sweetie, running away won't make it any easier on them. You have to let go of the guilt. You didn't choose this, and you certainly didn't want this. I know you hate seeing them hurting because of this, but that's just a given. They love you. We all love you. And it's only natural that we are all afraid of losing you".

She sighed in frustration, emptying another glass of her drink. "This sucks, you know? I mean, I can handle the whole damn thing. I can. But not this. Not the way it hurts you guys. This is the hardest part".

"I know. I'm here if you need to vent. But Bess, the minute you walk out the door of this place, you leave all these worries here. You put on your brave face and you fight this damn thing. Hear me when I say that we can handle the worry, as long as we know there's a light at the end of the tunnel".

A bit tipsy, Elizabeth stumbled into the house to find her family enjoying a movie together. They never heard her; too focused on the movie, some sort of comedy they all seemed to like. She smiled, their laughter filled her heart with joy. On tiptoes, she climbed up the stairs and found her way into their bed, letting her head fall against the pillows. Her eyes felt heavy, slowly closing in the darkness of the room. "Stop their pain; make them stop worry so much about me. Allow them to _forget_. If…" she whispered into the darkness, a silent prayer to a God only Henry believed in. She could use some faith right about now.

Standing at the doorway of the room, Henry heard the words that fell from her mouth. He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked inside, climbing on top of her in bed. He forced his smile, pretending he never heard the _if_ , her acknowledgment that she might not make it. "Since when do you sneak in on me?" he questioned.

"Didn't want to disturb you" she smiled, her fingers stroking the features of his face.

"You went drinking" he said, smelling the alcohol in her breath. She nodded. "Bad day?" he asked.

"Nothing I can't handle" she forced a smile. _My brave face_ , she kept telling herself. "Go back to the movie" she pecked his lips.

"The movie will be there tomorrow" he blurted, biting his tongue the minute the words came out. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"

With her smile still on, she tried hard to keep her tears from falling. _I will be here too_ , she wanted to say, but will she? "Stay then. And kiss me till I fall asleep".


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** : Aw you guys! Your reviews on the last one, wow! Thank you so so much! I really didn't feel like it was any good, and you just made me smile. I adore you. Also, sorry for taking so long to post this one, I almost didn't post today. I am still at a ramble here, and I am still trying to work through the mess of this until I reach the point where I want to be (and something tells me it will be a mess then too). So just, I hope this flows? I don't know. Anyway, thank you all for reading and reviewing and I would love love to know what you think of this!

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Standing at the doorway of their bedroom, Henry watched her as she scanned the room one last time. He walked over to her, resting a firm hand on the small of her back. "You've got everything you need?" he asked and she nodded, meeting his soft gaze. If he was scared, he was doing a very good job in hiding it, she thought. He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to her lips, "let's go".

Reaching for his hand, she held his tight as they walked out of their bedroom in silence. It was such an unordinary morning at the McCord kitchen. The kids sat at the morning table, playing with the food they had on their plates, all of them silent. It was so quiet. They turned when they heard her footsteps, followed by his. They all took a moment to examine her, them. Being spies in some part of their career, they were both able to hide behind a façade they were familiar with. They stood, one by one walking over to her, hugging her tight, each holding back on their tears, needing to be brave for her, just as she was trying to be brave for them.

"I'll be back in two days" she offered a smile, but she wasn't fooling anyone. The tears in her eyes were showing already, and Henry squeezed her hand when he felt her tremble slightly next to him.

"We're coming to see you tomorrow, mom" Stevie said and Jason and Alison nodded in consent. "And we're going to see you when you get out of the surgery".

"No, I don't want you to come. Please. Don't". Tears streamed down her cheeks now. She failed in being brave, in showing them everything was alright. She failed.

"Mom" Alison reached for her hand, "we want to see you".

"And you don't always have to be so brave" Stevie added.

Wrapping his arm around her, Henry pressed a kiss to her hair. "Babe, they're right" he whispered, pressing her against his chest, allowing her to lean against him.

"We'll see you later tonight, okay?" Stevie walked over to her mom, giving her another hug. "We love you" Alison added, "even Jason" she said and they all laughed. They watched as their parents walked out of their house, suddenly looking old, small, _defeated_.

They slid into the backseat of the SUV the minute her phone buzzed. "Really?" Henry asked in frustration. She shrugged, sighing as she answered the phone.

"Bess" Conrad called.

"Mr. President" she said firmly, suddenly alerted.

"I called to wish you good luck. Lydia and I both send our best wishes, and you're in our prayers. You're the toughest person I've ever met, you've got this. I'll be waiting to hear good news".

"Thank you, Conrad". Hanging up the call, she turned to Henry with teary eyes. "Everyone thinks I'm so tough, but what if I'm not?" she whispered.

Wiping her tears, he smiled, "It's two against one, babe. This tumor doesn't stand a chance". She nodded and he kissed her temple, pulling her to rest against him.

The rest of the day consisted of tests and doctors' appointments; information she probably wouldn't remember the next day; filling forms; being moved from one room to the other. Finally, they settled in her secluded room, grateful for the silence the corridors held. Henry walked over to close the curtains and she glanced at him. It was almost like the time they were at the hospital after she gave birth to Stevie. Her eyes darkened at that thought, as she realized how different everything is now. Their kids visited earlier that day, suddenly so grown, mature. She wondered if she forced them to grow up quickly, if she stole their childhood, their innocence.

"What is it?" he asked, taking his seat on the bed next to her, his hand moving to hold hers.

"Nothing… Just… The last time we were here, like this…" she trailed, her eyes staring at their hands, refusing to meet his eyes.

"The last time we were here, we had a screaming baby who refused to eat, no matter how hard you tried" Henry chuckled, "stubborn from the day he was born".

Looking at him, she smiled. He was still able to make her feel better, no matter what. "I love you" she muttered, pressing her lips to his in a tender kiss. He deepened their kiss, his hand trailing the bare skin of her arm, resting carelessly against her stomach, under her shirt. She pulled from his lips, opening her eyes to meet his, "you can still take advantage of them, you know, one last time" she teased and he giggled, shifting so he pressed her to the bed as his weight moved half on top of her.

"It's not them I want to take advantage of" he whispered in her ear, "but I have a feeling this is a bad idea. You know, considering the commotion going on outside".

"Since when does that bother you, Professor?" she giggled, sneaking her hands around his waist. She was about to link their lips together again when Will walked into the room, clearing his throat.

"I told you" Henry whispered and she laughed, the crimson covering her cheeks.

"Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I wanted to talk to you".

Releasing his grip of her, Henry moved, "I'll get out of your hair" he said, but she clung to him, unwilling to let him loose.

"Stay, I want you to hear this too". Henry nodded, sinking back against the pillows. "Sophie and I talked, she's packing up a few things for her and Annie. I found us a small place her in Georgetown, and they will take the first flight tomorrow. We're moving here".

"Will…" Elizabeth started.

"It's only temporary, until you feel better. I don't want to hear any argument. Sophie and I both agreed we need to stay close".

Elizabeth nodded. She wasn't going to argue. She wasn't going to deny the fact that she was happy he was staying. Henry would need the help and support when she's in treatments. Being the godfather of her children, she knew Will would always be there to look out for them. He might not have been one to be tied down, but when it came to them, they made a pact so long ago to always stand by each other. She would do the same if the tables were turned, she knew it. They all knew it.

"Thank you Will" Henry broke the silence, "for everything".

They fell asleep at some point, as the lights were turned off outside, and everyone kept quiet. She needed the sleep, and Henry insisted on it. He kicked everyone out, including the nurses and her Detail, forcing them to stand far enough so that she would at least feel like she had some sort of privacy. He wrapped his arms around her body and his fingers drew patterns on her skin, lulling her to sleep. His own eyes felt heavy in the darkened room and he let them close, listening to the soft sound of her delicate breaths, falling asleep to the rhythm.

She was taken from him the next morning. It was all so quick, and although they were prepared for it, neither was ready for that feeling of having a few short seconds to say goodbye to each other. He kissed her lips desperately, unwilling to let her go. Their tears mixed as they kissed, neither bothers to wipe them. "We have to go, Dr. McCord" the nurse said, and he was forced to break his lips from her, tearing his grip of her hand as she was wheeled into the OR and he was left standing, watching her fade behind the closing doors. Sinking to the floor, he buried his face in his hands, letting the tears stream as he began to sob.

 _1991_

She awoke late that morning. There was nothing she loved more than sleeping in on a Sunday morning. It was snowing outside, but Henry made sure their apartment was warm and their bed cozy. So much that she didn't want to get up. Rolling over to his side of the bed, she groaned when she found it empty. A smile crept up her lips when the smell of fresh pancakes reached her nose and she quickly left the bed, pulling one of his sweatshirts on as she made her way to the kitchen. She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him, letting her head rest against his back. "I want every morning to be like this" she mumbled.

Turning in her arms, he smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I've been told that once you have kids, you can forget about sleeping in" he teased.

Taken aback, her eyes opened wide. "Kids?"

"Relax" he laughed, "I'm joking!"

She moved, releasing her hold of him. "Henry, do you want to have a baby?" her face grew serious, her eyes darkening a little.

"Some day".

"Some day soon?" she asked.

"I don't… I don't know. Do you?"

A smile slowly crept up her lips and she moved to hug him again. "I want the whole deal with you" she breathed on his lips, kissing him hungrily. She let her hands move under his shirt, pressing her body against his.

Pulling apart for air, he pushed her a bit. "Babe, we don't have to start right away. I made pancakes" he grinned and she laughed, smacking his chest and moving to peck his lips.

"So are we doing this?" she asked, taking a bite of her breakfast.

Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it, "I guess we are?"

She smiled, nodding.

She was carrying a baby girl, they found out. _A baby girl_. Henry couldn't stop grinning at her as they were told the sex of their baby. Truth was, Henry would've been happy either way, because no matter what – it was their child, and there was nothing more perfect in the world than that. He was walking on cloud nine for the rest of the day, already thinking of how he was going to paint their extra bedroom in pink, of how he would build a crib for his baby girl. Finally making it home that evening, he found her crawled up in herself, sitting on the couch in their living room, staring into space.

He rushed over to her, "baby, what is it?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her. "Are you alright?"

"We need to talk" she said, meeting his eyes. He nodded, willing to listen to every word she had to say, frightened as he never thought he would. "My mom died of cancer. And, I've been meaning to… There's a test, and it's rather new, but I've been meaning to… I just kept postponing it because I was too afraid to know. But we… We have a girl, Henry. And if I… if I have that, if I… She could… I, I could be…"

"Stop" he said, "for all I know, I could be carrying some horrible genes myself. We can't know what genes she will have. And for all we know, you don't have the gene either. So stop. We are going to do whatever it takes to make this baby girl happy and healthy, but some things are out of our reach, okay?"

"Henry, I don't want her to…"

"Elizabeth, she's perfect. And she's ours. And we're not going to let anything bad happen to her". He let his hand rest on her belly, feeling a tiny kick against his hand. Feeling it too, her eyes opened wide and she looked at him, both smiling widely. "See? I told you she's perfect" he muttered, moving to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Already taking up like her dad" she teased.

"Nah, she's all you, babe. All perfect like you".


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** : This is a bit shorter than usual but I've been working on it since the weekend and I need to get ready soon to leave and stuff so I figured I could just post this. Especially since I have no idea what I want to write next. I hope it's okay. I'm so grateful for all of you – those who read, those who comment – thank you so much! Your support means a lot, so keep it coming! Promise I will update this story soon!

* * *

He didn't bother to get up from his chair. It was too much of an effort to drag himself across the corridors of the hospital, too much of an effort to move his weak legs. He was afraid they would fail him. He never thought three hours could feel so long. He was leaning his head against the cold white wall of the hospital, glancing at the bright lights above him. His eyes hurt, he couldn't even blink. He didn't want to miss a second – she might be gone, if he'd stop for a minute to breathe, she might be gone. He was forced to lower his gaze to meet the shadow that now stood in front of him, offering him a steaming cup of coffee.

"Blake" Henry let his eyes fixate on the young man in suit.

"I brought you something to eat too. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. There's nothing else I can do, so I thought I'd do this. I will get out of your hair".

Henry smiled. It was his wife's charm, her ability to make everyone love her. She drew all attention to her wherever she went; she was always the center of everything. And for a reason. She brought Blake in when she first started the job, and while he was young and unexperienced, he dedicated his entire life to her – to everything she ever needed. And he never blinked. It wasn't just that he was loyal, or that he was good at what he does. He genuinely loved her, _cared_ about her. About all of them. Henry became fond of him from the moment he met him, and they formed this bond – some unspoken understanding that Blake was the one in charge of taking care of her when Henry wasn't nearby. When she was at the office, she was under Blake's supervision, and it was a part he willingly accepted. If only for the sake of Henry's peace of mind. "You can sit and wait with me, if you'd like".

Blake nodded. There really was no reason to go back to the office. All he did all day was pace around and make everyone nervous. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I'm not very good under pressure. And this…"

"Yeah" Henry nodded. This was bigger than him as well. He glanced at his watch. Two hours and thirty minutes. If everything went well, she should be out soon.

"She left me some unsigned papers. I think she did that on purpose, you know?" Blake was desperate to distract the both of them. He knew exactly what time it was; 30 minutes could take forever.

Henry smiled wryly at him. "Sounds like Elizabeth. Leaving something unfinished just to make everyone be sure she'll be back to get it done. Cheap tradecraft if you ask me".

* * *

Will was pacing back and forth in the gallery of the OR. He braced himself for anything that would happen in there. Or so he thought. He had already learned that the cancer spread much more than they thought, that it reached the lymph nodes in an extent they couldn't remove with the surgery. She would need excessive chemotherapy. But nothing prepared him for when the monitor of her heart rate began to beep. He knew this sound by heart. Performing surgeries in the middle of nowhere, he was used to heart rates increasing, to blood loss. Everything. Just not when his sister was the patient, and he knew that one possible outcome of this sound was the declaration of death. _No_. He stopped dead on his tracks, his face glued to the glass, staring intently as the doctors tried to stop the bleeding. The surgical sponges were piling up, soaked with her blood; the monitor's sound never dying down.

It took a good 10 minutes until the doctors were finally able to stabilize her. The normal sound of the monitor showed a regular heart beat again. The scare was over. Bursting through the doors, Will ran outside, emptying his stomach in the nearest trashcan, chocking on his own tears as he struggled for a breath. He wasn't sensitive to blood; he was used to seeing it, to handling it. But watching his baby sister was beyond his physical capacity. He couldn't witness that anymore. He stood outside of the OR for the rest of the surgery, unable to bring himself to go inside anymore.

He jumped when the doors opened, and Dr. Miller came into his sight. "Dr. Adams" he called, stepping closer to Will. "I told you, you shouldn't have gone in".

Will chuckled. He was warned about watching her surgery, but he didn't care. "She was 10 when she fell off a horse. Our mom recently died, and our dad was away for some business meeting. We were left with our aunt. Elizabeth was crying, she her this huge wound on her arm, needed stitches later. My aunt took her to the clinic and she begged me to come with her, she was scared. All I did was laugh and call her a baby; told her she has to grow up, that it's just a little blood. I wasn't going to leave her alone again".

Dr. Miller nodded and smiled. "She's going to be alright. They're closing now. I should inform her husband".

Will followed his lead, dragging his legs as he could barely hold his weight. He didn't want to be the one to break the news to Henry; he didn't want him to know about how he almost lost his wife, how he might _still_ lose her.

Henry stood so quickly, he almost felt as the dizziness hit him hard. Leaning against the wall, he shut his eyes tight, willing it to go away. When his eyes opened again, the only thing he could see was the look on Will's face. He was pale; he looked scared. He looked like… _No_. Henry tried to shake these thoughts away; it couldn't be. He wanted to run towards them, to grab Dr. Miller and force the words out of him – that his wife was alright, that everything went well. But his body felt numb. He couldn't move his leg. Frozen, he stood and watched as they slowly, too slowly, approached him.

"There was a massive bleeding" were the first words he could comprehend. "Her heart rate is increasing; we were able to get it under control". Dr. Miller's voice sounded distant, faded. Henry could barely make any words out of what he was saying, it was a blur, a blur of his vision as well as the room spun around him.

"Henry" Will called, resting his hand on his shoulder. Blinking a few times, Henry finally met Will's gaze. His eyes, the color of blue, just like hers. He hated how much they were alike; he was a reminder, he will always be. If she's gone… "Henry" Will called again. "She's okay, she's in recovery".

"She's… She's okay?" his voice was low, barely audible.

"Yes" Will smiled, leading Henry back to his seat. "She's okay".

* * *

"Will, why aren't they let me see her?" Henry was frustrated. It was bad enough to learn about the complications they had during the surgery; even worse to learn the cancer was at a more advanced stage than they thought. It's been 5 hours since she had gone in. 5 long hours. And he was starting to lose it. He needed to see her, he needed to see for his own eyes that she's okay. He wasn't having any of the doctors' promises, not even Will's promises. He had to see for himself.

"She is still under, they had to give her more anesthetic. It will take a while. Why don't you sit down? I'll get you something to drink".

Henry shook his head. "I don't want anything to drink. I want to see her".

Will sighed. If there was one thing he appreciated was the love this man had for his sister. He was about to go back inside to check on Elizabeth, when a nurse came out. "Dr. McCord, your wife is awake. You can see her now".

Jumping to his feet, Henry followed the nurse as she led him into the recovery room. And there she was. Covered by a blanket, her eyes were closed. He moved closer to her, cautiously reaching for her hand. She opened her eyes and a smile spread on her lips at the sight of him. "Hi" she whispered softly, squeezing his hand.

He leaned to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, sighing with relief when he felt the warmth of her skin against his. She was okay. Meeting her eyes again, he nuzzled his nose against hers before kissing her gently, letting his lips dance on hers. "Hi beautiful" he finally said when their lips broke.

She chuckled, "nice try Professor".

"Babe, you're stunning. Always".

"No boobs and a hospital gown. Are you sure these glasses fit you?"

"Well the gown brings up the color of your eyes" he smirked, winking at her. He kissed her again, "you are always beautiful in my eyes. You can call me blind, but it's all I really want to see".

Smiling shyly, she felt her cheeks turn red. "Oh, you're good".


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** : So I posted the last chapter and I logged back to the internet only after 25 hours, and the amount of love I received was amazing. Thank you so so much! This one is a complete angst I think, but I did try to make a statement? I don't really know. Holls and Jessi were much of a help as always, thanks you guys! Also, Holls proofed this, so thanks for that too! I love it when you leave reviews!

* * *

Henry walked into the bathroom. He didn't knock, he never knocked. They'd been together for so long now that unless the door was shut completely, he didn't need to knock. She didn't either. He didn't stop to think that this could happen. He'd seen her topless more times than he could count, and the truth was, there was nothing in the world that could ever make him change the way he felt when he looked at her, dressed or not. But the minute the door opened, she instantly wrapped her arms around her torso, shielding herself from his gaze. Her eyes widened and a gasp escaped her. She turned around, facing her back to him, waiting for him to retreat and leave the room. But he didn't make any move towards the door. He moved closer to her until he was standing right behind her, letting his hands rest on her shoulders.

"Henry." she called, turning her eyes to meet his piercing gaze. "I don't… You shouldn't be here."

Letting his hands trace to her abdomen, he pulled her to his chest, feeling her body tense against his. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to… You shouldn't see… Please." Her voice cracked and trembled, eyes welling with tears. She was on the verge of tears even before he entered the room. It'd been over a week since her surgery, and she finally got the courage to stand in front of the mirror and examine the way she looked. It was the first time she acknowledged the absence of her breasts with her own eyes. And she wanted to throw up at that image of her. She was disgusted by the reflection in the mirror, and so ashamed of how she looked. And it was only the beginning. Her hair was bound to fall, and then what? She would have nothing left of her femininity, nothing to remind her she was once appealing to anyone in any way.

"Elizabeth, turn around. Look at me." She didn't move, only shunning her look away from him as tears rolled down her cheeks. He moved then, slowly walking to stand in front of her, his finger resting on her chin, asking again with his actions for her to meet his eyes. "Baby, please."

She was crying silently, though the pain was loud and clear. "Leave. Please. Just… Leave."

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to him and she began to sob, burying her face in his shirt. "No." he whispered, his hands running up and down her back.

"I'm disgusting!" she cried, pulling herself from his hold.

He didn't retreat. Resting his hands on hers, he tried to untangle her hold. "You're anything but." he placed a kiss to her temple, lingering as her eyes closed with the feeling of his warm lips on her skin. "Let me." he tried again, his hands moving again to her, tugging at them, asking to let her guard down.

"If you see me like this… If you see me naked, you will never look at me the same again. You will… I'm not the woman you used to know anymore. I'm not… a _woman_."

"Elizabeth, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you that makes you _you_. I find you sexy not because of your breasts, or lack of them. I find you sexy because you are just that. Nothing has changed, and I can't stand seeing you tarnish yourself like this. I want to show you. Let me show you what you still mean to me, what you will forever mean to me." With his hands on hers again, he was finally able to pull them, releasing her hold and finally exposing her bare chest. But his eyes never left hers, and he pulled her to him, joining their lips together in a soft kiss. "You _are_ beautiful." he breathed the minute their lips parted.

"I'm a monster." she mumbled, taking a step back. Her eyes scanned the room, desperately needing to locate her shirt.

He stilled her movements, asking for her eyes until finally they met his. He allowed his gaze to wander then, to look at her for the very first time. Meeting her eyes again, he smiled. Nothing changed in his expression, or in the way he looked at her. "Come with me." he offered her his hand, almost begging for her to follow.

She didn't want to. She wanted to put her shirt back on and crawl under the covers and never think of this ever again. She wanted to come up with a plan where he would never have to see her naked again. Not until the reconstruction surgery at least. She loved him, and she had no doubt he loved her too, but he wasn't blind. He _had_ to see what she saw. And no matter how much he loved her, she was, in her eyes, _ugly_. He must've thought it too. He would never say it, but he had to be thinking it. She backed away both from his hand and his look. It was the first time since she met him that she didn't believe him.

But Henry wasn't having any of it; he was determined to convince her, to show her the truth. "Elizabeth, I'm not lying. I know you don't believe me, so allow my actions to speak, please." Hesitantly, she reached out to his hand. Once, not so long ago, she trusted him blindly. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I love you." he whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He led her to the bed, asking her to lie on her back as he climbed on top of her. Their lips joined immediately, and tongues danced together in the way they have for years. "Trust me?" he asked, gazing into her eyes.

She nodded, blinking back her tears. He wiped them away and kissed her again, letting his hand trace the skin of her arm. His lips moved to her jaw, making her tilt her head, letting out a low breath when he kissed behind her ear. Slowly moving down her neck, he felt her squirm under him. He didn't give up. He kissed her collarbone as his fingers moved against the skin that once held her breasts. She tensed, her eyes filling with tears as she gazed at him, looking for any sign of aversion, but he had nothing but loving eyes to offer her.

"Close your eyes for me, will you?" She shook her head, the tears spilling again. "Baby, I will never do anything that hurts you. Please? Just close your eyes and listen to my voice."

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes and sinking further into the mattress. He brushed his lips against hers, taking her bottom lip between his. Again trailing to her neck, he left soft kisses on her skin.

"I love how sensitive your skin is. How if I linger a little, it leaves the mark of my lips, like it's absorbing my kiss." He moved further down her body, pressing his lips to her chest, gently moving his fingers along the valley of what once were her breasts.

"And I love that smile you give me when you wake up in the morning, and you're still half asleep. It's the best way to wake up - Next to you." He watched the rise and fall of her chest, noticing the change of pace; she was relaxing.

"I adore the cute mumbling you do when you're tired, and I love how after all these years, you never had to actually say anything for me to understand what each sound means." A small smile crept up her lips and he couldn't help but smile as well. His hand moved gently near her sutures, dancing on her skin. She shivered and goosebumps covered her skin. She had to force herself to keep her eyes closed and he noticed. He moved to kiss her again, as if to ease the feeling of his touch on her skin.

"I love your lips. The way they tremble when you're holding back tears. The way they flush pink when I kiss you. The way you bite down on your bottom lip when you're turned on. And damn, that's sexy. Who could ever say no to you." She giggled and the sound was his own comfort.

"And your laugh. I could listen to you - _watch_ you laughing, all day long. I will never get tired of it." His lips replaced his fingers, placing kisses on her delicate skin. She squirmed, but he repeated the motion over and over again, moving from one side to the other.

"I love your eyes. The fact that they speak when you don't say a word. The softness in them. the change of their color with your mood. I love holding your gaze, because I know that it's mine." He peppered kisses to her abdomen, his hands moving to remove her pants, his finger grazing her skin on the way.

"I love your mind. Everything about the way the magnificent thing works. I love how you can say one word and silence an entire room and have all eyes focused on you. You do that when you speak, but also when you're simply present. With your head held high, so much confidence, you look invincible. And all eyes are on you, because you're _a sight for sore eyes_. You light up the room, whenever you're there. Just like you lit up my room, and my life, the moment I first saw you. And then you spoke, and I was captivated for an eternity." He stroked her thighs before pressing inside of her. She cried out but he muffled the sound with his lips.

"I love how you always make me laugh. I love that you are my best friend. That you're the mother of our children; that you gave me the gift of fatherhood. I love that you're kind and compassionate. I love how duty bound you are, how you're determined and willing to sacrifice for others - _for me_. I adore you for never giving up, for the strength you have. And I love how, in spite of that strength, you allow me to carry you when it's just you and I." Her hands wrapped around his neck, and her legs around his waist. Her moans filled the room, but really it was his words that spoke volume.

"I love that you are perfect, regardless of marks and imperfections. It makes you human, it makes you vulnerable, and it allows me to protect you, if only with my arms wrapped around you. And I love how small you are, lying underneath me, but I know that you're tougher – _stronger_ than I am." Lifting her chin, she begged for his lips to meet hers, threading her fingers through his hair.

"I love that you're so sexy, even with a sweatshirt and flannel pants. I love that you are such a turn on without even trying. Beautiful by nature. Even when you're sick or tired. And I love that I get to have you, that you agreed to be mine." Their dance continued, their lips never parting, swallowing each other's cries as they moved together towards the bliss they only shared with each other.

He waited for her to open her eyes when they both stilled, still on top of her, still pressing his weight gently. She flickered, allowing her eyes to open only to meet his smile and the love in his eyes. "I love everything about you. And nothing in the world could make me _not_ love you." He kissed her again, "and you are _beautiful_. Inside and out."

She snuggled to him once he lied on his back, his hand wrapped around her, the blanket covering their naked bodies. "Thank you." she whispered.

Lifting her chin to his, he met her gaze. "No more doubts, okay?"

She nodded, trying to smile through her tears, "I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N** : Hello? Is anyone still out there? Does this story still have readers? Because this author was careless and didn't update this story in over a month. I'm so so so so so sorry. Thank you for all the wonderful comments, and for all the messages asking for an update to this story and again I'm sorry for taking so long. I hope you were patient to wait for this, and while I can't say that it was worth the wait (as I do believe this update is shitty, and it took me two weeks to write it), it's honestly all I have to offer. So if you're still out there, feel free to tell me I suck.

* * *

Elizabeth was standing in front of her closet, her eyes scanning the variety of clothes, her fingers moving through the delicate fabrics. She tried to convince herself that it doesn't matter, or that she shouldn't care. But truth was, she knew that the minute she would put on any of these clothes, the absence of her breasts would be so clear. These clothes used to fit her perfectly, but now, she realized, they would look odd, perhaps unfitting. She glanced at him when he emerged from their bathroom, her eyes pleading, practically begging for his help. Tilting his head, he crooked a brow, looking for a reason to explain her expression.

"I have nothing to wear." she whispered, staring at the floor at the admission.

"Babe, you have more clothes than any woman I know."

"Yeah, but unlike _other women_ , I have no breasts." Her voice held so much bitterness when she spoke, and she couldn't help but wonder at what point did she become so angry. It was only the beginning, she couldn't let it get to her that way. Not yet.

Reaching for his own closet, he pulled out a gift bag and handed it to her. "Maybe this will help?" he offered a smile.

A bit hesitant, she opened the wrapped present to find a black pocketed plunge wire-free bra. With her eyes opened wide, she met his eyes as he eagerly waited for her reaction. "Is this some sort of a wicked joke?" her voice cracked, the tears already visible at the corner of her eyes.

"What? No!" he answered immediately. He didn't think it through, when he decided to get her this. He just wanted to make her feel better; this wasn't supposed to pain her more.

"What am I going to do with this, then?" a single tear rolled down her cheek and she swallowed hard to keep the sobs inside.

"I… I'm sorry… I looked online… Never mind, this was a bad idea. I'm sorry." He reached for the garment to take it from her hand, as if needing to hide this painful reminder from her.

Retreating, she held onto it, her eyes never leaving his. "What did you think when you got this?"

"I…" he sighed heavily. "This is designed especially for women after mastectomy. I don't know if it actually fits, but the woman at the store said it should give you some sort of…" He scratched his scalp, looking for the right word. She looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence, eager to hear what he had to offer. "Make you feel a bit like _before_?" he tried, biting his lip as he waited for her own response.

Placing the garment on the chair next to her, she moved her hands to the hem of her sweatshirt. Once topless, she put the bra on, adjusting the straps to fit her. The size was perfect. Of course it was, Henry knew her body like the back of his hand. The fabric was soft against the stitches that still pained her; the deep-cut arm hole accommodating her lymph node incision scars. The cups creating a form of breast that almost looked real. She reached for her favorite blouse, pulling it down her head and adjusting it. She then turned to look at herself in the mirror, finding Henry standing behind her. She smiled; it was perfect. Letting out a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

"I don't think you need it. You're perfect just the way you are." He whispered softly in her ear. "But I wanted to make sure you had no room for doubts or insecurities. I wanted it to not be an issue, because it isn't."

Blinking back her tears, she turned in his arms, reaching for his lips. As their kiss ended, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest, letting his steady heart beat calm her down. "You have no idea how much I love you." She muttered.

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to her hair. "I think I have a clue".

* * *

If there was one thing Elizabeth hated the most was hospitals. She couldn't stand the smell, the white walls, the feeling of coldness. It was why she dragged her feet that morning, taking forever to get ready. Henry had to literally pull her out of the house and get her into the car. He was smart enough to cancel his morning classes so he could join her, in spite of her useless tries in talking him out of it. He knew her better than to leave her alone.

Sinking into the chair, she let out a sigh, expressing her discomfort and her reluctance to be there.

"Madam Secretary." A petite woman walked into the room with a soft smile on her face. She was skinny, her green eyes hiding behind a dark framed glasses. She held a chart in her hand and an IV bag which Elizabeth marked as her poison. "My name is Lisa, I'll be here for all your treatments." She offered her hand politely, which both Elizabeth and Henry accepted, introducing themselves and insisting to go by their first name. Lisa brought pillows and a blanket, adjusting them so that Elizabeth was comfortable enough in her seat. She then carefully inserted the needle into Elizabeth's arm and apologized as she winched with pain. Once the IV was inside, Elizabeth settled back in her chair and watched as the drug streamed slowly in the tube that led to her, feeling the cold liquid as in her vein.

Caressing her hand and smiling, Henry reached for his bag and pulled out their old scrabble board. "I figured you will need the distraction."

A smirk spread across her face. "And you thought scrabble was a good idea? Are you trying to take advantage of my situation to finally win this game?"

Chuckling, he arranged the tiles for the game. "We'll see."

And somehow, he was leading by thirty points and he couldn't stop grinning like a fool at the fact that he might actually win. After almost 28 years with her. Of course, all it took was for her to get cancer. He blinked a few times at that thought and then focused his eyes on her, needing desperately to shake it off. Her eyes were closed and she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She was pale and it suddenly occurred to him that while they were busy playing, she was still hooked to this horrible drug that was supposed to save her, if it wouldn't kill her first.

"Babe?" he reached for her hand, soothing her skin with his thumb and forcing her attention back to him. "Are you okay?"

Opening her eyes, she smiled and nodded. "I'm perfectly fine. Just calculating my next moves, as I'm about to kick your ass."

"Sweetie, if you think I'm going to go easy on you just because you're not feeling well, you got it wrong. I own this game."

Laughing, she shook her head. "You know, I love you, and I love when you get cocky. And when you think you can actually beat me. But…" she arranged her tiles on the board, scoring 40 points and finishing all of her tiles in one turn, leaving him with his mouth open, shocked at how she mastered this game without even trying. "You were saying?" she giggled, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms on her stomach, a winning grin on her face.

He was about to protest, to claim that the word she just spelled isn't even a word; that it was cheating; anything to get him to disqualify her moves. But Lisa walked back into the room. She moved around Elizabeth, checking her vital signs before removing the IV carefully. "If you feel nausea or pain…"

"I have a doctor living with me." Elizabeth smiled. "Two weeks?"

"Yes." Lisa nodded and moved to clear the way for Elizabeth to stand.

Henry was on his feet as well, moving to stand next to her and pull her to his embrace, wrapping a firm arm around her and pulling her to lean against him. "I'm fine." She whispered, meeting his eyes.

He helped her into the car, his eyes scanning her every few minutes, looking for any sign of sickness. He was certain she would do everything to hide it, and he was determined to read her, to know better. He didn't notice they were heading the direction of the state department, too busy focusing on her. Until the cars stopped and they weren't near their Georgetown home. "No." he protested, holding her hand and restricting her movements.

"Henry, I feel fine. Not everyone gets sick after chemo, okay? I'm not going to sit at home if I feel fine."

He had a full argument ready, but she opened the door and was inside the building before he could even say a word. He knew better than to chase her inside; Elizabeth was the most stubborn person he'd ever met and if she had her mind set on going to work, there was probably nothing he could do to make her change her mind. Instead, he texted Blake to keep an eye on her and let him know if she's not feeling well. He was grateful that the kid was fond of the both of them, enough to cooperate with Henry and not worry that Elizabeth will end up firing him.

* * *

Nothing prepared her for this. Sure, she heard from people who had cancer; she read all the medical brochures and listened as all the medical team that was in charge of healing her repeated it over and over again. But she was sure she would be that slim change of not suffering. She would be the one to say that she has cancer but it doesn't affect her daily routine. She refused to let it win. She refused to be _sick_.

Emerging from her bathroom for what seemed to be like the 4th time in the past two hours, she sighed with frustration. She had to lean against the doorframe, the fatigue quickly winning her over. Her head was pounding and in spite of just emptying her stomach, she felt the nausea again and turned back to her toilets. She sank to the floor, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, and closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she forced herself to stand again.

"Ma'am?" Nadine called from her office, impatiently waiting for a response. Nadine was in charge. No one assigned this position to her, but she knew she was in charge. She was the chief of staff; she was the oldest; and Elizabeth confided in her. Besides, she knew Henry well enough, and she knew that if anything were to happen to his wife, she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Slowly walking out of the bathroom, Elizabeth forced a smile on her face. "Yeah."

"I'm telling Blake to have your car ready for you."

"No, no need. I'm okay. I have a few more things to finish before I head home."

Squinting her eyes, Nadine examined her boss from head to toe. "Nadine, really. Don't worry."

"You might want to use some makeup if you're planning on keeping this play pretend when you go home."

* * *

Elizabeth barely had the strength to step out of the car, let alone climb the stairs that led to her house. Her purse hung loosely on her shoulder, her arms limp at each side of her body. She dragged her feet, stopping every few seconds to lean against the railing until she finally made it to the front door. Taking Nadine's advice, she made sure to freshen her makeup, hoping she would at least be able to pull it together until she reached her bedroom. She was grateful that everyone was busy in the kitchen with dinner that they didn't even hear her come in. With great pain, she managed to climb the stairs to their bedroom, reaching for the bathroom just in time to empty her stomach once again.

She washed her mouth, the cold water paining her as her mouth and throat felt sore. She glanced at her image at the mirror, fixing her hair in a desperate need to look decent. She strode to the closet, wincing as she stretched her arms to remove her blouse, feeling a burn in every part of her body. And then the cold air hit her skin, and she was quite certain she could actually feel it in her bones. She shivered, the fabric of her sweatshirt barely providing the heating she needed.

"You might want to remove all that makeup." She jumped at the sound of his voice, unaware of his presence.

"I…"

He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her. "Save it. Nadine, Blake and Matt kept me posted all day. And no amount of makeup can cover that pain and fatigue in your eyes."

She trembled in his embrace, sinking deeper into him as she couldn't carry her weight anymore. He held her tight, making her cry out as his hold hurt her. He pressed a kiss to her hair and picked her up, carrying her to the bed and helping her under the covers. "Will recommended a warm bath but I think you should try and sleep a little."

She nodded, pulling the blanket to wrap around her. Her eyes welled with tears when she met his glance, no longer capable of playing the brave one. "I'm sorry." She muttered.

"For?" he frowned.

"For being the mess that I am right now; for not being stronger. For putting you through this."

He was about to answer when she suddenly jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom again, coughing as she had nothing more to vomit. She collapsed on the floor, her head resting against the cold marble. Pulling her to rest against his chest, he held a warm towel to her forehead. "You're a fighter Elizabeth. You're _my_ fighter."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N** : Okay so first things first, I want to thank you for all the reviews on my last chapter, you are really really awesome. I have plenty of really good excuses to why I didn't post anything in almost a month, and I swear these are legit. But they all come down to the fact that sometimes life get in the middle of things. Such as writing. I'm struggling with the writing, and it's not just with finding the time to write, so I apologize for that, and for keeping you waiting. I don't find this to be any good, quite frankly feels like it's been written by a 5 years old, but I swear it's the best I have to offer now. Please be patient with me, I will hopefully come around and stuff. You know where to leave your reviews, right? They really do keep me going these days.

* * *

It was one of those rare sunny mornings. It was snowing just the night before, and yet somehow, that morning the sky were clear and the sun offered a comforting warmness, deceiving really, because it was freezing outside. Elizabeth stretched in her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She glanced to the empty side of the bed next to her, wondering when was it exactly that he left the bed. She turned her look to the clock that stood silently on her nightstand – 10:30 – of course Henry wasn't in bed. Question was, what was she doing there? Wracking her brain, she tried to remember the last thing she did and she soon realized she lost track of time. She was quite certain it was Sunday, but maybe it wasn't? Panic began to build quickly and she pulled the covers off of her and was up on her feet in seconds. But the pain that shot through her body made her collapse back to the bed, cry out loudly.

Dropping his plate to the floor, not caring as it snapped into pieces, Will ran up the stairs so fast he nearly stumbled on his way. "Lizzie!" he called, rushing over to her. "What is it? What hurts?"

"Everything." She mumbled, trying to stay as still as possible for the pain to go away.

Will sighed. Three days after her third treatment. He wondered when the other aches and pains will kick in, and he kept hoping that maybe she will be one of these rare people who suffer only from the nausea. Because the nausea was treatable, and it usually passed within a couple of days. But the bone pain was intolerable. He was grateful that the nausea and vomiting died down a little to allow her to have a full night sleep, but he knew that the next couple of days would be a living hell and there was nothing either him or Henry could do. "Do you want me to call Henry?"

"No… I, I'm okay." Somehow she managed to settle against her pillows, swallowing back tears that threatened to fall from the pain. Will watched and bit the inside of his cheek, as if trying to inflict some pain on himself to make it easier on her.

He waited patiently for her to stop panting, watching as she closed her eyes and willed the pain to go away. He walked over to the bathroom, retrieving towels soaked with warm water. He placed it on her arms and legs, hoping the heat will relieve some of her pain. Slowly, her breath evened and the fatigue took over her body. He sighed heavily before leaving the room and walking back downstairs. The mess of the broken plate was at least something he could handle.

* * *

On tiptoes, Henry walked into their bedroom. The lights were out, and he was pretty certain that was fast asleep. It was why he wasn't prepared for what he saw when he walked closer to her. She was curved in a ball, her hands wrapped around her. She was shivering, her skin so pale it nearly matched the white pillowcase. Her eyes were shut tight, but tears still trailed down her cheeks. She was struggling for a breath, while each attempt of a deep breath made her gasp with pain.

"Babe." Henry whispered, his fingers gentle as he rubbed her cheek.

"I'm okay." She muttered.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he felt her skin burning. "You're far from it. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Elizabeth shook her head, "no, really. It will go away."

Running his hand in her hair, he had to blink twice when he noticed the piece of her hair that tangled in his fingers. He was silent for a moment, and she opened her eyes only to find the look on his face that suggested something was wrong. Turning her eyes just enough to see his hand, she had to blink as well, tears now pooling at her eyes.

"Henry…" she tried to swallow the tears, she didn't have enough strength to cry. But it was bigger than her, and the tears just streamed down her face.

"Shh, hey." His thumb wiped them away, his lips again brushing her forehead. "It's just hair babe, it will grow back."

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that if she will win this thing eventually, that she would not die bald. She wanted to believe that there will be enough time for it to grow back, for her to look normal again. Appealing. But the past 24 hours have been the worst she'd ever had, and with her hair now falling out, she was no longer sure she had it in her to fight. It was why the tears wouldn't stop; why they turned into sobs that only caused her more pain and made her gasp for her air.

"Henry?" Will called from the door.

"She's burning up. And I can't get her to stop crying."

Walking over to stand next to him, Will glanced at his sister. He had to close his eyes for a moment as the sight of her was so _so_ familiar. She looked just like their mom, her blonde hair scattered on the pillow. He walked home from school one day to find his mom like that – helpless in her pain, suffering like he had never seen her before. He tried to shake this image off. He was older now, experienced. He had seen things far worse than this; he'd seen people bleed out to death on the table. But she was his sister, and no matter how many patients he treated over the years, he still couldn't save his mom from this bloody disease, and now he couldn't help his sister. Nor could he save her. This was bigger than him, mostly because he was numb, and there was nothing he could do to shake this feeling off.

"Let's go to the hospital." Will finally managed to say.

"She doesn't want to go."

"She doesn't have a say in this. She might have an infection, and there's nothing I can do from here. She needs to be hospitalized, run some blood tests. I can't help her." If Henry didn't know better, he would've thought that Will was giving up. But in spite of the defeat in his voice, Henry knew that Will was only stating the obvious. He was a doctor, and he was there precisely so he can make these calls. But he couldn't treat her; he was not her doctor. He was first and foremost her brother. And Henry knew that just like him, Will couldn't stand to watch her in pain.

* * *

Elizabeth blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. Fluorescent. She hated that light. It felt so cold, so distant, so… She wasn't home, she soon realized. She wasn't anywhere familiar, which could only mean one thing. She turned her head, he eyes frantically searching for her husband, but to no avail. Henry wasn't sitting next to her as she'd hoped. He wasn't anywhere that she could find him, _see him_. She tried to move, to sit. She wanted to speak but her mouth felt dry; she swallowed, but it consisted of tremendous pain.

"Lizzie." She looked to her side, meeting blue eyes, just like hers, staring at her. He was wearing a mask, and although she had seen him like that more times than she could remember, she needed a minute to recognize him. "I finally convinced that stubborn husband of yours to go get something to drink, and you wake up?" Will teased, hoping to force a smile out of his sister.

If she wasn't in pain, she probably would've laughed. It was so like Henry to never listen to anyone, to never want to leave her bedside. She noticed as Will's eyes darkened a little when he remembered that she was suffering. That still, he could do nothing. It was like looking in the mirror; the way the color of his eyes changed with his mood, just like hers.

He helped her sit, adjusting the pillows behind her back until she was comfortable enough to lean against them. He then reached for the cup of ice cubes and helped her get one to wet her mouth and ease some of her pain. "What happened?" her voice was hoarse, weak.

"Bad reaction to the chemo. But they want to keep you here for observation. Your blood count is very low and with the high fever they don't want to take any risks. It's why I'm wearing a mask."

She nodded and her eyes felt heavy again. She was tired. So tired. She felt Will's hand squeezing her before she fell asleep again, allowing the fatigue to win her over.

* * *

"It's been a long time since I told you how gorgeous you are. Too long." Henry whispered into space, his thumb gently rubbing Elizabeth's hand. He couldn't rid of the face she had, of the pain, when she learned that her hair was falling. And he couldn't rid of this feeling of blame that he lost the habit of telling her she was gorgeous daily. It got lost over the years, when they had kids, when life became too busy. He still found her just as gorgeous, but it suddenly hit him that he never found the _time_ to tell her that. Not the way he used to when they were newlyweds. And maybe, maybe if he did bother to tell her daily, maybe she wouldn't have found herself to be so hideous, so disgusting. Maybe she wouldn't have bothered herself with her looks, because she could rest assure that he will find her gorgeous no matter what, and instead, she would've invested all her energy in getting better; in fighting. He needed her to fight. He needed her to fight harder, to be tougher. Because he needed her to beat this; because for him to stand up after this, he needed to have her by his side.

"But don't ever think that you aren't. You are beautiful. Gorgeous. You are everything."

"You are everything too." Elizabeth spoke softly, coughing once the words left her mouth.

Jumping from his chair, Henry reached for the ice to give to her. She could see the smile that reached his eyes from behind the mask, watched him as he blinked the tears that formed at the corner of his eyes. She noticed how tired he look, how worried. She'd never seen him this afraid in his life. Terrified.

"Don't." He suddenly said, not giving her a chance to speak. "Don't say it. Don't think it. Just, don't."

"Henry…" she spoke slowly, each syllable paining her. "What if…?"

"No." his voice was firm, almost angry. He refused to listen to _what if_. She was fragile right now. She was exhausted and in pain, so he let it slide. But he will not let her give up. "You can rest for now. I will carry you. When you fall, and when you break, I will be your wings. But you are not giving up."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I know, you guys have been keeping the request for an update on this one, but I swear my life is a bit crazy right now and I didn't have the time (both physically and mentally, I guess) to write this. But It's finally here! I'm sorry for the long wait, and I really do hope you'd think it was worth it. Leave your comments, they really are the best.

* * *

Exhaling loudly, Elizabeth closed her eyes for a second before turning on the hair clippers. She let them glide over her scalp, strip by strip, leaving golden locks in the sink. The room was silent then as she switched it off. Holding her breath, she glanced at her image in the mirror, taking in the sight of her bald scalp. She ran her hand over, feeling the smooth skin and shivered at the strange feeling.

"I thought we were doing this tonight. After far too many drinks." Henry walked over to her, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her to him.

"I was afraid you were serious about shaving your head, too."

"Well, I was." He smiled.

"Henry, you can't really shave your head."

Raising a brow, he glanced at her. "Why not?"

Turning in his arms, she giggled. "You have huge ears."

Gasping, as if offended, his hands moved up her sides, tickling her and eliciting a loud squeak of surprise that was followed by her intoxicating laugh that he could never get enough of. "Stop, Henry!" she laughed, trying to push him away.

"Say you're sorry."

"Fine, fine! I'm sorry, you don't have huge ears!"

Stilling, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "Just very big ones," She whispered before running away from him to their bedroom.

He followed her lead, gripping her arm and pulling her to his embrace. "Where do you think you're going? I didn't get to tell you how beautiful you are."

Her bright blue eyes stared at him and he saw the doubts, the fear, and the pain. He let his hand run over her head and then pressed a kiss to temple. "Really, _really_ , beautiful."

* * *

"Ali?" Elizabeth knocked softly on Alison's door that night, surprised to find the light still on.

"Yeah," Alison called from inside. She was too focused to notice how late it was.

"Hey, what are you doing up so late?" Elizabeth asked as she walked inside.

Turning around in her chair, Alison smiled at her mom. "I wanted to finish this," She said and handed Elizabeth a garment.

Elizabeth's eyes welled with moisture when she realized what it was. A black stripe was neatly sewed to dark blue and yellow floral silk organza fabric, and a small peals decorated the seam-line. Alison walked closer to her mom, resting her hands on hers. "Take the wig off, try it on," She whispered.

Elizabeth shook her head and took a step back. "Ali, no. I don't want you to…"

"Mom, you're going to have to take that wig sooner or later. I want you to try this on."

Elizabeth was reluctant, but she didn't want to let Alison down. She'd made this scarf for her, she had to try it on. "Turn around, please?"

Alison sighed but did as she was asked. She understood why it was so hard for Elizabeth to show herself like that, why she felt like she still had to protect her children from it. She knew arguing that she was old enough, that she could handle it, wouldn't help. There wasn't real logic to it, just the constant fear that she was ruining their lives, and that the only thing they will forever remember her as was this sick, dying, bald woman. If only Alison could explain to her that all she sees is a fighter, that she admires her strength and is looking up to her, maybe she'd let it go. But Elizabeth was stubborn, and Alison knew that part of it had to do with what she went through as a child.

"Okay, you can look."

Turning around, Alison gasped in surprise. She knew the colors would fit her mom, but she couldn't quite picture her without hair and it made it difficult to create the design. But it was perfect. It covered just enough of her forehead, and the blue brought out her eyes. She was beautiful. Alison smiled and walked her mom to the mirror, watching as a smile crept up her lips.

"Ali, it's gorgeous!"

"No, you are."

Wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek, Elizabeth pulled Alison for a tight hug. "Thank you," She muttered into her hair.

* * *

"Go Fish?" Stevie walked into the living room, finding her mom staring at some documents.

"Yeah, sure, why not. These aren't going to get any interesting anyway."

"So um…" Stevie began handing out the cards, but avoided her mom's eyes. "I'm thinking I should get tested."

"You want me to come with you?"

"No, Jareth will. I just… I want to know, you know?"

Elizabeth sighed. She knew. She was around Stevie's age when she went to get tested as well, and she had done it for the same reason – she had to know. But there was also no one around to tell her that knowing might not always be the better option. "Stevie, do you know what it means, if… If you have the gene, and you find out now, do you know what the consequences are?"

"I will have to get tested every year. I know. I had a meeting with Dr. Miller yesterday."

"Oh." Elizabeth could still remember her first trip to see Dr. Miller. She remembered so clearly the following time, when she sat in his office and he outlined the details of her test results.

"I don't want to burden you with this."

Elizabeth looked at her card for a minute, taking a deep breath before meeting blue eyes that matched hers so perfectly. "Stevie, you're not. I didn't have a mom to stand beside me when I decided to do this. And as much as I love your father, he would never understand what it is like to live under this constant threat. I want you to know that you can - that you _should_ involve me in this. Not because I'm your mother, but because I was right where you are. And also because…" Elizabeth swallowed hard, "this is my fault."

"What are you talking about?!" Stevie frowned. "It's not your fault that you have the gene. It wasn't grandma's fault either."

"I brought this thing into our family." A tear rolled down Elizabeth's cheek as she said the words. She wasn't only talking about the gene. They may have inherited the gene from her, but she also brought the disease home. She brought the sickness and the scare. She took away their joy and instead she gave them fear. Fear of losing her, fear of having to go through the same thing as well. Fear that sooner or later this monster would eat them alive.

Pushing the cards aside, Stevie moved closer to her mom, wrapping an arm around her. "You didn't bring anything here. This happens. It happens to women who don't have the gene. It has nothing to do with you and there was no way you could prevent it. And you know something? If you hadn't done the tests, there's a chance you wouldn't have caught this in time. It might have been too late. And now you can fight this, and beat this and you'll be okay. And you didn't ruin us by telling us. Alison and I are old enough to handle it. No more blame, mom. Save your energy to kick the cancer's ass."

* * *

Resting against the cold marble, Elizabeth wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Here." Blake handed her a glass of water and a clean towel.

"Thanks." She offered him a faint smile before reaching for the water.

She wasn't supposed to be at the office today. She always made sure to take the day after chemo off. But some crisis in the Middle East forced her into the office and it was the third time she ran out of the conference room to throw up. She was certain she looked like a mess, and the last thing she wanted to do was meet with Russia's foreign minister. Reluctantly, she took Blake's hand and he helped her back to her feet.

After fixing her hair and her blouse, she opened the bathroom door to find Nadine and Daisy standing outside, a concerned look on their faces. "I really hope you're worried about me, and not because something happened."

"Unfortunately Ma'am…" Nadine started, sharing a glance with Blake as he shook his head and prayed there wouldn't be more bad news. "The White House called, you're requested in the situation room immediately. I already informed the Russian minister and your motorcade is ready when you are."

Elizabeth sighed with frustration and nodded. Putting her coat on, she accidentally pulled her hair and the wig moved from its place, revealing parts of her bald head.

"Crap," She muttered under her breath.

Feeling ashamed, she turned around and moved quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. _They weren't supposed to know_. It was why she wore the wig, although it made her head scratch and in spite of the fact that every time she ran to the bathroom to empty her stomach, it was in her way. She hated that thing. But she rarely wore any of her scarfs. Those were saved for the hospital treatments or for the nights she was feeling too sick to care about how she looked. Even when she was with Henry alone, she didn't dare to take that thing off. She didn't want him to see her bald, he shouldn't get used to this sight.

Outside in her office, Daisy, Nadine and Blake stood speechless. Blake was embarrassed and excused himself out of the room. He didn't want to be there when Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom; it was bad enough that he was there when it happened.

"Maybe…Um… Maybe we should leave too?" Daisy suggested.

Nadine nodded. They should give Elizabeth some privacy, avoid the awkward looks. But Nadine needed to be a friend to her boss at that moment. She needed to stand beside her and make sure she was okay. It was why she didn't follow when Daisy left, only closing the office's door after her.

The bathroom door opened slowly and Elizabeth exhaled when she didn't find them standing outside. Nadine sat on one of the chairs in her office, keeping her eyes on the floor. It was this small privacy she had to offer.

"Ma'am."

"I'm good to go." Elizabeth nodded, reaching for her purse.

Standing, Nadine walked over to her. She checked Elizabeth's appearance and smiled. "Being sick is not something to be ashamed of, you know? And it certainly doesn't make you look weak to us. Quite the opposite, actually."

* * *

"Bess?" Conrad called when he noticed her dragging her feet into the situation room.

"Sorry it took me so long."

"You look like crap." Russell pointed out the minute she took her seat.

"Thanks, Russell, it's nice to see you too."

Taking the seat next to her, Conrad rested his hand on her back. "I'm sorry for dragging you here," He whispered.

"It's not your fault there's a war in Syria." She smiled. It wasn't his fault that her own body was in war against itself, either.

"Are you sure you're okay to be here? We can…"

"Conrad, I can actually _do_ something about the situation in the Middle East." Elizabeth didn't finish the rest of the sentence. _There's nothing more I can do about the cancer_.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** : So I guess I finally made it to writing this. I've been struggling with whether or not I should continue this story, and I did thought of abandoning it. So here is another chapter I'm not certain of, and while I do know how I want the story to go, there's a difference between having that in my head and actually writing it. I would really _really_ appreciate your thoughts and comments, I'm needy that way.

* * *

"What are you looking at?" Henry asked as he caught Elizabeth staring at him, biting her lower lip. Henry just emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and stray drops of water still rolled down his chest and his back, his hair a fine mess.

Elizabeth smiled, crimson quickly covering her cheeks and her neck. She was lying in bed with some papers she brought from work, the scarf Alison made her covering her head. "Just the view," she replied, smiling coyly at him.

Walking towards her, he leaned down to kiss her. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him to her. His lips danced on hers, his tongue carefully making its way inside. Slowly, one hand trailed down his shoulder and arm, then down his chest, until it reached the towel. Untying the knot, it fell to the floor, making Henry pull away from her lips. He glanced at her in surprise.

"I wanted a better view," she smirked, pulling him back to her, forcing him to lie on top of her.

Later, they lied together, his arms around her, her head resting on his chest. "It's been a while," she whispered.

When he didn't reply, she looked up to see him staring at her, a genuine smile on his face. "Some things just never get old." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her temple and pulling her closer to him.

"Even though some things are missing?" Elizabeth asked quietly, her voice disappearing into his chest.

Lifting her chin, he forced her eyes to him. "Nothing is missing. You are here. I have everything I need."

* * *

With a book resting on her knees and her glasses in hand, Elizabeth allowed her eyes to flutter closed. She rested her head back against the chair, slowly drifting into a light sleep.

Henry entered the room, sorrow in his eyes at the sight of her – a scarf covering her head, intravenous line leading into her frail veins. She was so pale; her current state since she was diagnosed. She was thin now, more than ever, and physically weak. It was the last treatment for this cycle and she was scheduled for a scan to reassess the effects of the treatment and to determine how to proceed. He wondered, as he stood there watching, if her body could take any more of that poison that was supposed to cure her. _There's no other choice_ , he reminded himself. Putting on his brave face, he walked over to her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Waking up and smiling into the kiss, she kissed him back until their lips parted for air.

"Do you always kiss strangers?" Henry teased, sitting on the armchair.

"Only when they're such good kissers," she grinned. "What are you doing here? Isn't there a crisis at work?"

Henry sighed. "There is," he started, taking her hand in his. "Which is why I'm needed in Paris. I tried to talk them out of it, promised I will be available over the phone, but they insist on having me in the room when the decisions are being made since I can maybe identify things they can't."

"Henry, they're right, you have to go."

"I don't want to leave you," he muttered, running his thumb on her skin.

"Hey, I'm not alone, remember? And I'm going to be alright, I've been through enough of these to know how crappy I'm going to feel, and there is nothing your presence can do to change that. Also, remember, this might be the last time, so we have to stay positive, right?" She offered him a smile she knew he would never believe. She was terrified of the results, and that only added more guilt, as he knew he would not be there with her when she got them.

"Right," he nodded, forcing his own fake smile. Deep down they both knew what the other thought, but it was easier to pretend that everything wasn't crumbling down around them, that he didn't want to leave her because he was always terrified he might miss the last moments with her.

* * *

Elizabeth didn't bother to get up from the bathroom floor. It required too much strength that she just didn't have anymore. After a restless night with constant vomiting, she was exhausted, and for the first time since this whole thing started, she was also alone. Will had left to get some drugs for her to ease some of her pain and maybe some of the nausea, and Henry, reluctantly, left for Paris.

Hearing faint footsteps, she looked up to see Alison standing in the doorway of their bathroom. She stared at her for a second, Alison's dark eyes filled with worry. Elizabeth wanted to speak, to kick her out of the room, but her body betrayed her and she leaned towards the toilet again. Wiping her mouth, she sighed at the sight of blood staining the porcelain. It wasn't a first.

"Mom," Alison called, fear written all over her face, the color drained out of her features.

"Noodle, get out of here, please," Elizabeth begged, needing so badly to protect her from this.

"No, I'm not leaving you like that," Alison protested. Reaching for her phone, she dialed her father's number. "Dad!" she yelled into the phone when he picked up.

"Noodle? What's wrong?!" Henry felt his knees weak at the sound of terror in her voice.

"Mom, she's…" Alison took a deep breath, panic building quickly. "She's throwing up blood," she cried.

"Where is your uncle?"

"He… He went to get drugs, I don't know… Dad, I don't know what to do!" Tears welled her eyes, and she could feel her heart beating out of her chest from the fear.

"Sweetie, I need you to calm down. This can happen; the doctor warned us about it. Is she okay? Can she talk to me?" Henry was pacing the room, wrecked with guilt that he wasn't there for this. That his daughter had to see this.

"I guess, I…"

Rushing into the room, Will startled Alison. "Ali, what are you doing here?" he questioned, noticing the phone in her hand. "Who is that? What happened?"

Failing to speak as sobs took over her, she handed Will the phone.

"Will," Henry called.

"Henry?"

"She threw up blood," Henry pointed out.

"I know, that's why I went to the pharmacy."

"Her platelets are low, aren't they?" Henry sighed.

"It's possible, but it doesn't mean anything. It's just a side effect of chemo," Will said, trying to sound comforting, although knowing that Henry was worried sick.

"No, I know. But still…"

"Hey, I'm here now, and I have her drugs so I hope those will help with the nausea. She has a doctor's appointment first in the morning, I don't think rushing her to the hospital now is necessary. If anything happens, I will update you."

Henry nodded. "Thanks Will."

Hanging up the phone, he glanced at Elizabeth for a second. She nodded, silently asking him to get Alison out of there; to get her to calm down. He walked over to Alison then, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room.

"No!" Alison cried, "I want to be with her! I want to spend time with her… She's… No!"

"Noodle," Elizabeth called, her voice hoarse. "I'm not _dying_. Please."

"She will be alright, I promise. But for your sake, and for hers, please." Will tried again, pulling her towards the door. Alison didn't argue anymore, realizing he would take care of her. And mostly hoping that no one was lying to her, and that her mom really _wasn't_ dying.

* * *

"I'll take you out for ice-cream after this," Henry whispered into the phone. "I promise. I'll be back soon, and we are going out for ice-cream."

Glancing at her wedding ring, she smiled. "It's a date."

"Mrs. McCord," the nurse called out her name.

"That's me," Elizabeth said, standing from her seat, Will following. "Henry, I'm going in."

"I'm right here with you, babe. No matter what, we are doing this together."

Taking the seat in front of her doctor, Elizabeth sighed, placing her phone on the desk for Henry to listen. She looked at Will for a second, noticing for the first time the fear in his eyes. This was bringing back too many memories for the both of them, and she knew she was the only family he had left and he just couldn't lose her too.

"Elizabeth, how are you feeling?" Dr. Miller asked.

"One day at a time," Elizabeth smiled.

Dr. Miller nodded. "I have your test results." He paused for a second, waiting for some sort of affirmation to continue.

Elizabeth moved uneasily in her chair. She could read Dr. Miller's face so well, and she just cursed the day she decided to join the CIA as an analyst because she _knew_ he had bad news. Problem was, she was, for the next few minutes, the only one to know that.

"The good news is that we are seeing a regression. See, right here," Dr. Miller pointed to Elizabeth scans, "You can see that some of the metastases disappeared."

"But there are still more showing," Elizabeth stated, pointing to the darkened dots that appeared on the scan.

"Lizzie," Will turned to her, urging her to let the doctor finish.

"No, that's alright," Dr. Miller said. "Elizabeth is right, and that is, I'm afraid, the bad news. While you did go into remission, you will still need to do more chemotherapy and radiation. I know we were hoping that this would be the last round, but the cancer is more aggressive than we thought."

* * *

It was rather early when Henry made it back home. Tossing his bag on the floor, he walked over to their office to search for her. With no luck in finding her, he moved to the kitchen, and then the living room and finally their bedroom, but she was nowhere.

"I tried to argue, but she wouldn't listen. She's at work," Will said.

Henry sighed with frustration. "How is she?"

"I wouldn't know. She doesn't care to speak to me, or anyone. I did hear her cough and vomit, but when I tried to offer her anything, she just kicked me out. She didn't look too bright this morning either, but I could see that she was just dying to get out of here."

Picking up the keys to his jeep, Henry made his way towards the door. "Thanks Will," he said, and they both knew he wasn't thanking him only for the information he'd just provided.

Henry waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive to the 7th floor. The ride seemed to take forever, with people constantly going in and out of it in every possible floor. He breathed a sigh of relief when the doors opened and he was welcomed by Blake.

"She doesn't know you're coming."

"Good. That way she didn't have time to prepare an excuse for staying. Is her motorcade ready?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, Blake."

Opening the door to her office, Henry rushed over to her bathroom, finding her leaning against the sink. Her hands were shaking and he could see that she was straining herself to stay standing.

"Babe," he muttered, wrapping a firm arm around her waist and pulling her to lean against him.

Falling into his embrace and allowing him to hold her, she looked up to meet his eyes. She didn't bother to hide the tears she shed. She didn't bother pretending like everything was fine. It wasn't. Everything hurt; everything seemed so scary.

"Take me away from here, Henry. I can't do this anymore. Please, just take me away."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N** : Now you see what you did? Filled my heart with joy with all the love you sent over after the previous chapter, so much that I was keen to write this next one. Keep it up and I promise I will finish this story (this is not an extortion haha! I really need this!). So I'm going a little dark there at the end, and I am not going to update this story in the next two weeks at least, so I will apologize in advance for leaving it the way I did. I am a tease lel. Thanks to Jenni for proofing and thank you all for your reviews. Keep them coming!

* * *

As the car parked next to their house, Henry glanced at his sleeping wife. She was curled into a ball, her coat covering her body like a blanket. Her head resting on his hip, her hand gripping his pants. He was grateful that she had fallen asleep, that she didn't have to suffer the nausea and pain during this ride.

"Do you need help getting her inside?" Matt asked as he opened the car's door.

"I don't want to wake her," Henry shrugged.

Matt nodded. He was well aware of Elizabeth's condition and he had seen enough of her over the last couple of days to understand that it was a blessing that she was asleep. "Stay here," he said; although it was against protocol, he decided to make an exception. "I can get your things from the house."

"No," Henry smiled softly. "I'm alright."

He was far from it. Ever since he first saw her that day, his mind was racing. _Take me away_. Her words echoed in his head, repeating over and over again. _I can't do this anymore_. She had to. She couldn't give up. She couldn't stop now. Not now. He knew that she would break, when he first heard the news her doctor had for her. He knew she was weak, that she was in pain. But nothing was a good enough reason to give up. His eyes filled with tears at the thought he might lose her; that she might not do everything in her power to live. He wiped his tears, sighing with grief. The thought alone was painful.

"Henry," Elizabeth muttered, opening her eyes to see him shedding tears. She sat slowly, pulling her coat tightly around her body.

Henry didn't bother to hide his tears. He offered her a sad smile, taking her hand in his and squeezing. "Are you feeling any better?"

Moving closer to him, she rested her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs drying his tears. "I love you, you know that, right?"

Fresh tears spilled from his eyes. "I do. And I love you just as much. And this is why it's so painful."

Elizabeth nodded. She knew, she understood. If she were in his shoes, it would've hurt her just as much. But there was nothing she could do. She was ill; she might die. He might have to spend the rest of his life alone; the life they intended to spend together. She pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, his hands moving to wrap around her.

* * *

"Henry, are you sure this is a good idea? Taking her all the way to the farm house? She'd be far away from her doctor and the hospital who knows her medical situation. And I'm staying here too. It's going to be just the two of you out there," Will protested as he watched Henry pack their things.

"I don't know Will. It might be the worst idea I ever had, but I have to try. We have two weeks until the next round, and she usually feels better then. I know, we're alone and if anything happen, it's a risk I'm taking. But Will, if this will help her get stronger, if it will make her find the will to fight, I'm willing to take that risk."

Will sighed, sinking into the chair in their bedroom. "It's like she's not my sister."

"She's suffering," Henry said, sadness in his voice.

"That's not an excuse. She knows what it's like to live without a mom, she ought to know that her kids will miss her just like she misses her own mom."

Henry sat on the bed in front of Will, rubbing his face and his eyes. Will was right, and Henry thought exactly the same. But Elizabeth wasn't just one thing. It took him years to peel off the layers, one by one, to finally get to the core of who she was. She was terrified of dying, he knew that. And she didn't want to do that to her kids; she didn't want them to go through what she went through. But that was exactly the problem – she didn't just lose her mom. She had to watch her slowly and painfully die. Her body was surrendered to this awful disease that was now threatening her own life. And as a child, Elizabeth had to sit by her mom, hold her hand and watch as glimpses of a life slowly faded from her body. She didn't want to do that to her kids. If she was going to die anyway, she wanted the disease to kill her, rather than the chemotherapy that was slowly coursing through her veins. In her mind, if she didn't go through the treatment, she'd be strong enough to stick around until the cancer defeated her. She'd be around for birthday parties and family dinners, maybe even stick around to walk Stevie down the aisle. But if she continued with the treatments, she'd spend the rest of her life in bed, feeling as horrible as she felt now, only to eventually die. Just like her mom.

"She also knows what it's like to watch a parent die."

Will frowned. He knew that too. He lost his parents as well, but he was so sure he would never give up like she was.

"Look, I am not agreeing," Henry started, standing up and pacing the room. "And I am not justifying it. And I will do everything I can to convince her otherwise, I'm just telling you _why_ she's giving up. It makes sense to her."

* * *

"Do you want me to start a fire?" Henry asked again as he noticed Elizabeth pulling the blanket tightly around her.

Giving up to the cold, she nodded. She flashed him a smile when he finished, eyeing him in his black sweater and jeans.

"What?" he smiled too, pulling her to his embrace after taking the seat next to her on the couch.

"Nothing. You're just such an arm candy," she teased, kissing his cheek lightly.

Henry rolled his eyes and chuckled, his arm pulling her tightly to his body. "Do you remember that time it snowed so bad that the power went off?"

"You mean the time we had sex by the fire just to get warm?" Elizabeth smirked.

A crimson blush covered his cheeks. "Well, not just that. We also had popcorn and played Scrabble."

"Naked," she teased.

He moved his hands to her sides, tickling her and eliciting a loud scream that was followed by laughter that filled the silent house. She pushed his hands, trying to escape him, still laughing as he never let her get far enough.

She coughed, struggling to catch her breath, making him stop. He grew worried, his eyes narrowed as he examined her. "You okay, babe?"

Clearing her throat, she leaned against the couch and let out a breath. "Yeah, sorry."

Henry smiled softly at her, leaning closer to her. "It was an amazing night," he whispered playfully before kissing her gently.

Shifting, she lay on her back, allowing him to climb on top of her. Pressing his weight against her body, their lips continued to dance together, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"You're so beautiful Henry. Don't ever change."

* * *

"It was a good idea to come here," she said, sipping her tea and relaxing in the armchair.

Smiling at her, he walked over to sit at her feet, his hand resting casually on her leg. "I'm glad you're getting stronger. It's good that you can rest before the next round."

Tilting her head, she gave him a quizzical look. "Henry, there won't be a next round. I canceled it."

Henry blinked, looking for a hint of humor in her voice, in her face. Something. He found nothing. She was dead serious. "What?" It was all he managed to voice at that moment.

"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore. I won't. I thought you understood it. I thought that's why you brought me here."

"You think I brought you here to _die_?" He could feel the anger bubbling, rushing through his veins like venom.

"Yes," she simply said, unaware of what her words were causing him.

Standing up, he placed his cup on the table in anger, startling her. "Elizabeth!" he shouted, making her gasp. "Why on earth would you think I would be on board with this?!" he spat.

"Because you didn't argue."

"I didn't argue because you were throwing up and crying when you said that! I thought you were exhausted, that you just needed the rest! You can't be serious!" He was furious, but also scared and hurting.

"I am serious, Henry. And my mind was clear when I told you this. I didn't need to _rest_. I am not a child who needs to think about her choices," Elizabeth replied in anger.

"Obviously you are!" he yelled. "Because no one in their right mind would choose to give up a life like you have!"

"What life do I have?!" She raised her voice too, tears filling her eyes. "Huh?! Treatments followed by days of feeling like I was hit by a bus! I can't do anything anymore! And my kids – they have to watch me become this weak shell. I am nothing, Henry. Nothing. You're better off without me."

"How can you even say that?! How can you even think that I'd be better off without you?!" His voice was shaking, and he felt his heart beating out of his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that…"

"So what _did_ you mean?" He narrowed his eyes.

"You'll hurt at first, I know you will. But in time… Henry, it's better if it ends now. It's better if you remember me like this, and not at some nursing home where I can't even go to the bathroom. I am going to die, whether you like it or not. Wouldn't you rather spend the little time we have left together? When I can still think clearly?"

"Elizabeth, the doctor told you the cancer is in remission! I know, the treatments make you sick. I get that. You're suffering, I see it. And believe me, I hate it! Do you think I don't pray every goddamn day that this thing had been in my body rather than in yours?!" A stray tear fell from his eye. "I'd trade places with you. I'd do everything I can to take this pain away from you. But I can't. I can only stand by, hold your hand, get you as comfortable as possible, and pray. The rest is up to you, and I thought you love me, that you love _our kids_ enough to fight this till the very end. The woman I married would've never given up like that."

"I am not giving up, Henry!" Her voice was trembling as she felt the fatigue threatening to take over. "The chemotherapy is going to kill me before the cancer does. It's a lose-lose situation, you have to understand that. I want to die in dignity. This is the last thing I will ever ask of you, let me die in dignity."

"No," he shook his head. "You don't get to ask that of me. Not unless I know we did everything we can to keep you here. You will recover, if you'd only decide to fight. This isn't the end."

"Henry, you're speaking from your heart. Come on…"

"Don't make a fool out of me!" he yelled again. "I heard what the doctor said! I wouldn't have pushed you this hard if I didn't know there was a pretty good chance you'll make it out of it. You have to try. If not for yourself, then for me and for the kids. You have to!" He knew he was begging, pleading. He didn't have any other choice. He couldn't let her do this.

"Baby…"

"No!" he shouted, but his voice conveyed so much pain. He walked over to her, placing his hands on her cheek and holding her face. "You can't give up, do you hear me? You can't! You are stronger than this, you will beat this. You have to!"

Holding onto his wrists and resting her forehead against his, she allowed her tears to stream down her cheeks. Their sobs filled the quiet room, holding so much pain and the fear of having to say goodbye to each other.

"Please," he whispered, sucking in his breath. "Baby, please."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N** : I'm sorry it took me forever. Thank you so much for reviewing the last chapter! I adore you! Holly was a huge help as always, thanks girl. So there you have it, the monthly shitty angst update. Hope you enjoy. Comments matter so much. Thanks.

* * *

Henry must've looked everywhere for her. He'd left to get some milk while she was still asleep, only to return and find her gone. He moved around the house, trying to locate her, but only stumbling across scattered clothes.

He sighed when he noticed that her coat was gone and realized she was somewhere outside, _and_ it was snowing. They fell asleep at some point the night before. He didn't remember much, just the tears they both shed. She was wrapped in his arms, clinging to him like a child. He held her tight, too afraid that if he let go, he would lose her forever.

When the morning came, he woke and glanced at her for a while, reveling in the steady rise and fall of her breath and the brightness of her delicate skin. The snow was still piling outside, cascading bright light that made the room feel cold, alienated. Henry shivered and pulled the wool covers over her before pressing a soft kiss to her temple and carefully untangled himself. He could only hope she wouldn't wake before he returned.

"Good morning Mitch," he said as he made his way to the barn.

"Henry." Mitch smiled politely. He had been working at the barn for so long now that he was practically family, and yet, he never dared to ask anything personal. He knew Elizabeth was sick. Everyone knew Elizabeth was sick, she couldn't hide it anymore, no matter how much she tried. It was why he was surprised when Elizabeth walked into the barn that morning, when she took Penny out for a ride.

Henry noticed Penny was gone. He took a deep breath before picking up a blanket and walking over to Murray's stall. "When did she leave?"

"A while ago. She didn't say much."

Henry nodded. Mounting the horse, he gave Mitch a final look before he rode away. He felt the cold air hit his face, the snow falling on his coat. He couldn't believe she went riding in this weather. She was too weak to be out in the cold. It was too dangerous to be outside, but he knew her far too well. It was ridiculous at times how well they knew each other. They'd been together long enough to predict the other's moves, but this was more than that; At some point in life, they became one. They could not only predict where and what the other was doing, but how the other was feeling. He didn't have to see her to know where she went, and why. He didn't have to see her to know that she was struggling, that she had a decision to make and she couldn't do it with him around.

She was standing with her back to him, coughing and shivering. He noticed how her body shook, how fragile she looked. Climbing off of the horse, he walked over to her, wrapping the blanket around her and pulling her into his embrace. Burying her face in his chest, she inhaled his scent. Taking a deep breath of warm air, she was finally able to get the coughing to stop.

"Thank you," she muttered into his chest, her arms wrapping around his torso.

Placing a kiss to her temple, he pulled her closer, allowing her to absorb the warmth of his body. "Just to set things straight, I _am_ mad at you for coming up here."

Glancing at him, she nodded. "I know."

"Good." he smiled. "Now you want to talk about why you're _really_ out here?"

Elizabeth sighed. There was a reason why she came, she just wasn't sure she was ready to talk about it. The frozen lake was always the place she'd run to. It used to be her favorite place as a kid. They'd go up there in summer, and have picnics by the shore. And then at winter, they'd ride up just to get a glimpse of the beauty of the frozen lake. Elizabeth always found it a bit sad how in the summer the lake was filled with living creatures, and the trees and sun made it feel like paradise. And then in winter, whilst it was beautiful, it was also cold and lonely, and suddenly didn't look like paradise at all. Her mom loved the lake more in the winter. Ironic that she passed away in the summer, and never got to see the frozen lake one more time. She was buried nearby. It was their way of ensuring she could enjoy this place that was just theirs for an eternity.

Noticing that her mind has drifted, Henry gently stroked her cheek, forcing her attention back to him. He smiled at her when she met his gaze, urging her on.

"She made us promise, you know? Before she died. She knew her days were numbered, she felt it in every part of her body. So she asked us to sit beside her and she made us promise. She made us promise that we will always stick together and that we will always live like it's our last day. She told us we could be anything we wanted, that we shouldn't be afraid to live, to take chances."

Henry had heard countless of stories about her parents. It was the only way he got to know them - through the stories she told. But every time, she had a new story. They'd been together for so long and he still didn't know everything about the 13 years she had parents. It still amazed him how many memories such a young girl had. He listened carefully, as he always did, his eyes focused on hers.

"And I have been doing that ever since. I was never afraid to live my life, not even when they told me I have the gene. I always reminded myself that life is short. That I only get one chance to live it right." She took a deep breath that was followed by coughing. She felt Henry's grip tighten around her as he pulled her to him.

"Are you afraid now?"

Meeting his eyes, she nodded. "I'm afraid of losing myself completely, of not remembering what and who I used to be before the cancer. I'm afraid of living with this _thing_." Elizabeth looked at the snow falling around them and sighed. "But I am also afraid of dying. I watched my mom die. I know what I'm about to go through – whether or not I beat this. She was nothing at the end; she just wanted to die so that the pain would stop." She winced, as though she could feel the pain of this washing over her again. "I don't want to be at such place. I don't want to beg you to let me go because I can't stand this anymore. I'm terrified of what the end game will be." Her voice broke, and tears slid down her cheeks. "I always said I'd rather die by going to sleep and not waking up. I am so scared of the understanding that you and the kids might have to go through what I went through. That Will would have to go through that _again_."

Henry took a deep breath. He wasn't ready for the answer. He knew she was suffering, but he didn't think deep into what it meant for her to deal with this. It wasn't just a disease. This was threatening to kill her, and it would mean that history was repeating itself. He knew that the thing she feared the most was having her kids go through the same hell she did. His fingers grazed her cheek softly, making her close her eyes to his gentle touch.

"Elizabeth, this isn't going to kill you. You are going to be cured." He tried to sound certain, but the trembling in his voice was noticeable.

Her eyes welled with tears. "That's what they told my mom. It's what she told us."

* * *

Henry stumbled into the dark house, his keys falling to the floor. "Shit," he cursed under his breath.

The house was silent and it was clear everyone was asleep, which is exactly what he was aiming at when he went drinking and didn't come home until 2am. He made his way to the kitchen, pulling out a glass and the bottle of scotch.

"Henry?" Will called. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up straight on the couch. Glancing at the clock and then back at Henry, he frowned. "What the hell, man?!"

He walked over to Henry, smelling the alcohol from distance, noticing the wrinkled shirt that was untucked and his day-old stubble. "You weren't at work," Will stated.

Leaving the glass, Henry nodded. "Went out for some drinks."

"Some?" Will raised his voice. "You're drunk! And you lied!"

"Okay fine! I lied! What do you want me to say?! I needed to get away!" Henry fired back.

"Are you bailing on her?" Will asked. He was already building in his mind the lecture he was going to give Henry; His hands already closed into fists as the anger bubbled.

"You know I would never do that," Henry replied in defeat as he sank to the couch.

Will considered his moves for a moment. It wasn't like Henry to bail, that was true. But it wasn't like Henry to lie that he had to work; to go and get drunk when his wife was sick at home. He took a few steps, facing Henry with his arms crossed over his chest.

"So why did you? What do you need to get away from?"

Henry's eyes welled with tears. "Do you really need to ask?"

Will bit his lower lip as it suddenly struck him – this was Henry's too. It was affecting all of them, but she was the love of his life, and he couldn't even let himself feel.

He went to the kitchen to get the glass Henry left behind. Pouring a fair amount of the drink into two glasses, he walked over to the couch and took the seat next to Henry, handing him the glass.

"She's going to chemo tomorrow, it's a good sign. It means she's not giving up."

"Yeah," Henry nodded, downing his beverage. "But you and I both know it doesn't mean she will make it."

Henry couldn't stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He had been trying so hard not to say the words out loud, not to acknowledge this possibility. But as time moved forward, he couldn't ignore it. He could no longer bury this fear somewhere deep inside.

"I can't raise the kids alone. I wouldn't know what to do. She is my guidance. And Stevie… we are supposed to walk her down the aisle together, what if she… what if she misses it? What if she's not around to meet our grandchildren? What if she's not…" He chocked on a sob.

"Henry," Will called, resting a comforting hand on his knee. "I want to promise you that you won't have to. God, I wish I could. But you can't let these thoughts consume you. If she… You will have enough time to deal with her not… Just focus on the fact that she's here now, that her doctors are optimistic." Will didn't have any comfort to offer; it was painful for him as well.

Burying his face in his hands, he began to sob. Suddenly, it seemed so real - a threat that was closing in on them. He only then realized just how close they came to losing each other, and how close they were now.

Petite hands rested on his shoulders then, and soft lips pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Henry sighed heavily. He didn't need to look to know that it was her. He knew her touch by heart. He took hold of her hand and pressed his lips to it. Her hand was cold. Her hands were _always_ cold nowadays, but he still felt like his skin was burning under her touch, burning with another memory.

"Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe," she whispered.

"St. Augustine," Henry said, looking up to meet her eyes.

He pulled her hand, nudging her to join him on the couch. Sitting on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and her thumb wiped his tears.

"I'm going to be okay," she muttered.

"You have to," he breathed on her lips before kissing her slowly.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** : Christ, it's been more than a month since I updated this one. I am so so so sorry. I had a major struggle with this and it took me nearly this time to write this update. I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks for the proof, Holls. Let me know what you think by clicking review at the bottom of the page. Many thanks! :)

* * *

Henry was too preoccupied with the paper he was holding in his hand to notice the faint knock on the door. He hardly even noticed the footsteps coming his way, until she was standing close by, her coat still hanging on her arm.

"Maureen!" Henry jumped from his chair. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he greeted his sister with a hug.

"The real question is why I didn't get here earlier. How could you not tell me?!" Maureen asked, smacking his shoulder.

Henry shrugged, looking away from her piercing eyes. "What did you expect me to say? That the _Queen_ has fallen ill?"

Truth was, he didn't want to tell anyone. Not because he was ashamed, but because made it all a little too real. He thought that maybe, if no one knew, if it was just theirs, it would remain a bad dream - a bad experience at most. He couldn't bring himself to talk about it, especially not with his own family, and especially not with Maureen. It wasn't that he thought she didn't love Elizabeth. In spite of her regular banter about his wife, Henry knew fare well that Maureen liked Elizabeth just enough, being his wife and the mother of their children. It was the lifestyle Elizabeth brought with her that Maureen and his father disliked the most. Yet, it was enough to make him keep this from her. The last thing he needed was more bad jokes about the money Elizabeth had or how they chose to live their lives.

Maureen squinted her eyes. She wasn't there to fight, but she couldn't blame him for what he said. "Henry…"

"Guess what, Maureen. There are some things money can't buy."

Maureen sighed. She deserved it, she knew it. "Henry, I didn't come here to fight. I really care."

Henry looked away. He didn't mean to be a jerk, and it seemed like lately he was taking out his frustration on anyone standing in his way.

"Where is she?" Maureen asked.

"She's at work, had some crisis she had to manage."

Maureen nodded, although Henry could see the frown on her face. He didn't like it either. "And how is she feeling?"

Taking the coat from her, Henry walked over to hang it and then made his way to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for her. "She should be back soon, so you can see for yourself."

Maureen sighed. She could see Henry hurting. He was afraid; she never saw him like this.

She was about to question him when Elizabeth walked into the house coughing. Henry was alerted then, his body tense as he moved to greet her. He examined her, his eyes moving rapidly from her head to her feet, as if checking to see that everything was intact. Everything except for the lack of hair, breasts or energy.

"Here," he said as he handed her a glass of water.

Taking a few sips, she released a breath. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" Henry asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "It's just really cold outside. I think it's about to snow."

Henry glanced at her one more time before clearing her way as she began walking towards the kitchen. She was reading a text from Blake when she entered the kitchen, her hand carelessly reaching for her wig and pulling it off. She didn't mind anymore, they were alone and that thing has been bothering her all day. She was startled by the loud gasp, only then noticing Maureen's presence.

"Elizabeth!" she called and her eyes already had tears.

Elizabeth smiled tiredly at her, looking at her abandoned wig on the counter before moving to welcome Maureen to her embrace. "Maureen! What a nice surprise to have you here."

Running her hand over Elizabeth's head, Maureen couldn't stop her tears from falling. "I would've come sooner. If I had known it was this serious, I would've come sooner."

* * *

"Is she asleep?" Maureen asked as she took the seat next to Henry on the couch.

"Yeah," Henry nodded, his eyes staring into space. "She sleeps a lot these days. Especially when she has to get out of the house. This really drains her."

"And how are you holding up?"

He met Maureen's eyes and said nothing. He didn't really have a choice. As much as this was painful and scary, he was still not the one dealing with the sickness. He had to be strong for her. "Hanging in there," he finally replied.

Her heels clicked as she made her way down the stairs and Henry sighed loudly. He knew that sound by heart and he was really starting to hate it. Maureen turned to look at her when Henry got up and made his way towards his wife.

"I don't get why you have a deputy if you get called in." he frowned.

"Henry, you know it's not the same and there are some decisions he can't make on his own."

"I know, but you had chemo yesterday! You need to rest."

She smiled wearily at him, resting a hand on his chest. "I'm alright for now. And I really do have to go."

She was lying and they both knew it. He noticed how exhausted she looked, how pale she was. He was quite certain she either threw up before climbing down the stairs, or was about to the minute she walked out of the house. But he knew he didn't get a say in this; there was nothing he could do. He adjusted her wig and placed a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead.

She whispered thank you to him and leaned towards him to kiss his lips. "Don't wait up for me, it could take a while."

"I'll always wait up for you," he muttered, giving her a hug before letting her go and watching her disappear into the foyer.

"She's so very different when she's in her natural surroundings," Maureen pointed out when Henry sank back to the couch.

Henry chuckled. "You have no idea."

"Well, I would have, if I had bothered to show up here more," she said with a hint of sadness.

"I just hope it's not too late," Henry said, chocking on his tears.

* * *

Hearing her footsteps, Conrad turned around, his eyes landing on her. "Bess, what are you doing out here?! It's freezing!" he frowned.

"I need to talk to you about something," she replied as she pulled her coat tightly around her figure.

Conrad nodded and walked over to her. Resting his hand on her back, he led her back inside, shutting the door behind him. Shivering, Elizabeth made her way to the couch in Conrad's office. She let out a breath once seated, relieving some of the pain in her feet.

"God, this winter is going to kill me," she joked.

Conrad glanced at her, a slight shock on his face.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad choice of words," she said, smiling apologetically.

Nodding, he sat in front of her, waiting for her to speak.

"You need to find someone to fill my place," she started.

"What?" Conrad asked, furrowing his brows.

"If I'm… You need someone to replace me."

Standing up quickly, Conrad crossed his arms. "Bess, I am not going to replace you," he said sharply.

"Conrad, you have to be realistic. When Marsh died, you didn't have time to consider this decision…"

"And it was the best decision I ever made on this job," he interfered.

Elizabeth smiled, "you have the time now. I'm giving you a heads up so you can think about candidates."

"Elizabeth!" Conrad called, raising his voice. "I'm not going to have this discussion. You're going to get better and get back on your feet."

"Mr. President," Russell called, barging in. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Elizabeth. "Bess," he motioned.

"You're just in time, Russell. Can you please tell him that he needs to pick a new Secretary of State?"

Russell looked at Elizabeth, then at Conrad and back at Elizabeth. He was confused at first, taking a moment to catch up on the scenery he walked in on. Conrad shook his head, as if trying to make sure Russell doesn't say the wrong things.

"Bess, I'm with the President on this one. You're going to kick the cancer's ass so you and I can bicker some more. You're not going anywhere."

* * *

"I thought I told you not to wait for me," Elizabeth said as she closed the door behind her, feeling her husband's hands on the small of her back.

He pressed a kiss to her neck, his hand moving to take the bag from her. "And I told you that I always will."

She turned, meeting tired eyes and fresh stubble on his weary face. Resting her hand on his cheek, her thumb moved gently on his skin. He was tired and he suddenly looked older. The weight of her illness was present in every line that formed on his forehead. She felt the lump in her throat and closed her eyes, leaning forward and joining their lips together in a passionate kiss.

Taken by surprise, Henry moaned softly into her mouth, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her to him. His tongue moved with hers, his lips slightly sucking. She pulled away with a heave, and their eyes met for a moment before she kissed him again.

"Are you okay?" he asked when their kiss ended and she moved from his hold to rid of her coat.

She smiled tiredly at him. "I am," she nodded.

Taking his hand in hers, she let him to the couch and sunk into his arms the minute he sat down beside her. Her legs resting on his, his hand running up and down her thigh.

"Is Maureen still here?"

Yeah, sleeping. I insisted she spend the night, I didn't want her to drive all the way back tonight."

Elizabeth nodded. "You did a good thing. How come you haven't told her?"

There was a long pause. It was only when she looked at him that he spoke again. "I didn't want to pile on your problems."

Elizabeth frowned, moving slightly so she could properly see him.

"Babe, Maureen is… You know how she gets, especially with you. I didn't want you to have to deal with her as well as the cancer. I think you have enough on your plate without her nonsense".

"Henry, she's your sister. She's family."

Henry shrugged. She was family, but he cared about Elizabeth more than anything and he wasn't about to do anything that might harm her.

"Listen to me," she said as she took his hand in hers. "She's your support system. They all are. You have to lean on them a little."

"I don't. I'm okay."

"Henry, you're far from it. I might be dying, and these past months have taken their toll on everyone around me, especially you and the kids. You don't talk to me about it, so the least you can do is talk to them."

Henry sighed, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "I'm not sure I know how to talk to them about losing you. It's like… Will they ever understand? They never got what we have. They never will." His voice was low, the sound of his own words paining him.

Elizabeth wiped the tear that rolled down his cheek. "They had their own share of grief. Give them some credit, you are still siblings." She moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And if not for you, do it for me. I need to know that if anything were to happen, that you're not going to be alone. I need to know someone will take care of you if I'm gone," she said, her eyes avoiding his.

Henry tightened his hold of her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Okay," he nodded.

* * *

The TV was on in the background, cascading its dim light on their tired features. Still snuggled up in each other on the couch, they gave into sleep.

Faint footsteps alerted them both and they turned around to see Alison climbing down the stairs, a blanket wrapped around her.

"Noodle?" Elizabeth asked, sitting up to welcome her daughter into her embrace.

"I can't sleep. Can I maybe sit with you for a while?"

Exchanging a worried look with Henry, they both nodded. "You want to talk about it?" Elizabeth asked.

Alison was silent. She wanted to talk about it, she just didn't know if she had the right words to express what she was feeling. The past month was hard, but watching her mom, she knew it was harder for her and so she just didn't say anything. Not when she watched her throw up over and over again. Not when she was too sick to sit at the family dinner they held for Jason's birthday. Not when she took her wig off and exposed her bald head. These past few months had put them all under a lot of pressure, but more than that, it put them under the constant fear of losing her forever. And that was just too painful.

"Hey," Stevie and Jason called from the stairs.

"Hey you two," Henry said before looking at Elizabeth again.

"I found this one awake and we decided to come check the commotion down here," Stevie said, offering a faint smile.

Henry moved closer to Elizabeth, making room for Jason to sit next to him as Stevie sat next to Alison. It'd been a long time since they were huddled together on the same couch and both Henry and Elizabeth knew this wasn't a good sign. They looked at each other again, silently agreeing that it might be time to have a family discussion. Henry nodded at her, a silent acknowledgement that he was there and that they were doing this one together.

"Who wants to start?" he asked.

"The girls at school today… They showed me this photo of mom from some tabloid, I don't even know when it was taken, probably after chemo. And the headline read – the beginning of the end," Alison was the first to speak.

"Noodle…" Henry started.

"I know, it's dumb. I live here with you, I see you every day. I know things are hard but you promised us that the doctors are optimistic and that you are going to beat this. But still."

"But still, I'm your mom and I have this awful disease and I look the way I do and feel the way I do. And I miss out on so many things, and I'm tired all the time and I'm sick all the time. And you're scared. And nothing me or dad will say can ever take this fear away. I know. I know how you feel, and I wish you didn't. I wish you didn't have to go through what you're going through," she paused, taking a deep breath and blinking the tears that welled in her eyes. "I wish I didn't put you through this. Because you don't deserve this. None of you do," she said and looked at Henry, making sure he knew she was talking about him as well, that was part of this too.

"You didn't choose this," Jason said and it was probably the first time he engaged in any conversation about her illness since she told them she was sick. "It's not your fault. But it still sucks."

"Yeah, it does," Henry agreed, nodding. "But we're all in this together."

Stevie reached to wipe her tears, "Team McCord," she said.

"Team McCord," Elizabeth replied. She rested her head on Henry's shoulder and he placed a kiss to her hair as fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

"Mom is not going anywhere," he said, as if reassuring himself as well as the rest of them.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** : This story was on hiatus for four months and this update is not long and I sort of left you hanging there at the end, but I'm sorry, this is all I have. I will try to do my best to update (and maybe finish) this story soon (or as soon as possible) but I learned not to make any promises. I'm really stuck with this one, don't even know why. Send help if you've got anything. And in the meanwhile, bear with me please? Holls proofed it, thanks for the help babe. And thank you for all the reviews, I really hope someone is still reading this one.

* * *

"Is there something I can get you?" Maureen asked.

Glancing over her frames, Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. "I'm all good, thanks," she said and lifted the mug in her hand for Maureen to see.

Rounding the couch, Maureen sat down next to Elizabeth and watched as she finished the report in her hand. Elizabeth then put the paper on the coffee table and tossed her glasses. Taking a sip from her coffee, she relaxed against the cushions and looked at her sister-in-law, willing her to speak.

"I can't believe that with everything that's going on, you _still_ have to work."

Elizabeth shrugged. It was funny how much Henry resembled his sister at times. "The rest of the world doesn't really care about my cancer."

"I know, but it's probably draining you, isn't it?"

"The chemo is draining me. And the radiation. And watching your brother refuse to acknowledge that I might die from this."

Maureen glanced at her, eyes filled with so much sorrow. "You can't blame him, can you?"

Smiling softly, Elizabeth shook her head. "No, but it makes it a lot harder to know that you're hurting the people you love so much. He shouldn't go through this. My kids shouldn't go through this."

Taking Elizabeth's hand in hers, she squeezed tight. "You're a strong woman, Elizabeth. Much stronger than I gave you credit for. And you love your family. You're going to get out of this."

Elizabeth glanced at the joined hands and a tear rolled down her cheek. Truth be told, she was never close with her sister-in-law. She and Erin had a much better relationship, but still, after her parents died, Elizabeth hoped that she'd find a new family with her husband. But as much as Henry loved her, and as much as his mom was fond of her, the rest of the McCords never really accepted her. It was odd to be sitting there with her sister-in-law and having a conversation that didn't involve argument. It felt strange that Maureen actually _cared_ about her.

"I need you to promise me something," Elizabeth started.

"Don't. Don't finish that. I know what you're going to ask, and don't. Elizabeth, you're going to be fine, you have to have faith."

"Maureen," she said, squeezing her hand. "Please. I want to believe that I will, but I need to know that in case that I won't… I need to know now, while I'm still lucid, that Henry and the kids will be okay if something were to happen to me." Taking a deep breath, she looked up to meet Maureen's eyes. "Please," she pleaded as the tears strolled down her cheeks.

Reaching to wipe Elizabeth's tears away, Maureen smiled. "I promise. I'll look after them. All of them."

* * *

"Madam Secretary, there's been a development…" Nadine said as she marched into Elizabeth's office, a stack of papers in her hand. Looking up from them, her eyes searched the room for any sign of Elizabeth, but the room was empty. "Ma'am?" she called.

No response.

She was just about to call Blake when she almost bumped into him as he stood behind her.

"She's not here?" Nadine asked.

Blake shrugged and nodded towards the bathroom, he and Nadine exchanging a worried look. He made his way towards the door, Nadine following suit and knocked softly. "Ma'am?"

Still nothing.

With wide eyes, Blake looked at her for any instruction on what to do next, but Nadine was just as clueless.

"Madam Secretary." Knocking again, Nadine called out to Elizabeth. "Ma'am, if you don't answer, I'm coming in," she said when Elizabeth failed to respond.

Blake nodded when Nadine met his gaze and she carefully turned the door knob and let herself in. Her breath hitched at the sight in front of her and it took her a few seconds to come back to her senses and rush over to Elizabeth.

Lying on the cold floor, Elizabeth was unconscious. Her hair was scattered around her, and jacket wrinkled and damp with sweat. She was as pale as her white blouse, and if Nadine didn't know better, she could've sworn Elizabeth was… _No_. Pressing her fingers to her neck, she sighed with relief at the feeling of a faint beat against her pads.

"Blake!" she shouted, turning her head to look for him.

"Ambulance is on the way," he informed her as he made his way back into Elizabeth's office. "And so is Henry."

Nadine nodded. She kicked off her heels and knelt next to her boss. Turning her carefully to her side, she gasped at the feeling of her skin against her fingers. "She's burning up."

"She was fine… Before, when I offered her some coffee, she seemed fine."

Nadine nodded. "As if she'd ever let you know she's not."

Hearing fast steps approaching, Blake turned around only to make room for Henry to come rushing into the bathroom. A little out of breath, he bent towards his wife with shaking hands.

"Baby," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Help is on the way, Dr. McCord." Nadine was trying to reassure him, but knowing him, she realized it didn't matter. Help couldn't get there fast enough for his worries to fade away.

Resting his hand on her cheek, he let his fingers run slowly against it. There was some comfort in the warmth of her skin; some sort of a sign that she was still alive, even though she looked long gone. He was too focused on saying a silent prayer to a God that only failed him once when the medics entered the room. He glanced from his wife at the feeling of a foreign touch on his shoulder and reluctantly moved out of the way, and away from her, to allow them to hook her up to machines and lead her to the place she hated the most. Standing in the doorway, he watched the scene unfold before him, unable to do anything but repeat the same though over and over.

 _Don't let her die._ Please _, don't let her die_.

* * *

There was a loud ringing in her ears. Her head was pounding. She tried to open her eyes but was unsuccessful.

Move _, Elizabeth_ , she yelled in her head. Her limbs felt numb, yet throbbing with pain and she decided against trying to move. Once again she made an attempt to open her eyes and the florescent light hit her pupils so hard she had to shut them again.

 _Was she dead?_ No, she couldn't be dead. This can't be what death felt like. She tried to think back, retrace her steps to the last thing she remembered. Oh. She was feeling sick. And then…

"I'm right here, babe." She heard the distant sound of his voice and her skin tingled.

 _Look at him_ , but the thought of turning her head to him, of opening her eyes, it was far too painful.

"Go back to sleep, I'm not going anywhere," he whispered against her hair before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

 _He's wearing a mask_ , she thought when she failed to feel the warm lips she had come to love so much. It hit her all it once – she was at the hospital, and Henry was there, and she wasn't dead. But what…? Against all reason, she made an attempt to move and a groan escaped her and she was reminded of the hard blow to her head.

A hand squeezed hers, and it was much stronger than hers and larger. It enveloped her tiny fingers as if there was nowhere else they belonged and a soothing thumb ran circles on the back of her hand. _Henry_. He was lulling her back to sleep, his words sounding far away, but his voice calm and even.

She was not alone, she thought. And it was the last thought on her mind.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N** : Hey look, it took me only a month (or so) to update this. I'm getting better. I hate this update though, I'm sorry. I had something entirely different in my mind but by the time I finally sat down to write it I couldn't remember what I had in mind, so I just wrote whatever. One day I will figure this entire story out. In the meanwhile, this is what I have. Thanks to Jenni for proofing. Thank you for reviewing the last one, it made me smile so much. Leave your reviews, those are the best!

* * *

"Dr. McCord," a faint voice called his name, forcing his attention.

 _January, 2012_

He was outside her room, staring into space. There really wasn't anything interesting about the white walls of a hospital, and truth be told, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He was deep in thought about what it would be like to live a life without his mom present. With Jason being only 10 years old, he really couldn't picture his life without her. His mom was always a huge help with the kids, and unlike the rest of his family, also got along with Elizabeth. She was always the buffer between him and his dad and Maureen, and the thought of not having her around anymore was too scary.

His eyes closed the minute he felt her hand on his shoulder. Henry didn't need to look to know who it was; he recognized the feeling of her in his sleep.

"Hi," she whispered, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

He smiled weakly at her and took her hand in his. "What are you doing here? Don't your students have an exam?"

Rounding his chair and taking her seat next to him, she grabbed his hand and held tight to it. "They do. But James saw that I'm distracted and offered to help so I can drive here. Juliet has the day off, so I asked her to babysit. I couldn't let you do this alone."

Henry nodded a silent thank you before kissing her slowly, the touch of her lips against his reminding him that he will never be alone.

"How is she? Any news?"

Henry shook his head. "It's not looking good. My dad is in there with her, but the doctors aren't optimistic."

Sighing, Elizabeth nodded. "Can I see her?"

Henry smiled, of course Elizabeth wanted to see her. He nodded, leading her into the ICU where his mom was resting, hooked to all kinds of machines that helped keep her alive. His dad stood from his seat and he and Henry left the room, leaving Elizabeth and Jane alone.

Tucking some hair behind her ear, Elizabeth ran her soft fingers against the pale skin of Jane's forehead. Henry looked just like her – same eyes, same hair color, and every feature of her face reflected in his. But more than that, Henry was _just_ like her – kind and loving.

"I love him," Elizabeth whispered. And although Jane's eyes were closed and she was unconscious, Elizabeth was sure she was listening. "I love him so much, I will never let anything bad happen to him. He is my family, and I'm not going to let him go." Elizabeth reached to wipe away a tear, and her eyes wandered to the bands on her finger. "I know you won't be around to watch our children grow, but I will make sure they know all about you, that they know their father is exactly like you, and he's the best man in the world. Thank you for all that you have done, I'm going to miss you deeply."

Standing, she pressed a kiss to Jane's head. At the door, she glanced one last time at Jane, "Goodbye, Mom," she whispered.

 _Present Day_

"Dr. McCord," Matt called again.

"Yeah, sorry," Henry replied, meeting Matt's eyes.

"Your kids are here, the nurse says there shouldn't be too many people in the room."

Henry nodded. He was aware of that order. It was for her own sake that she didn't get exposed to too many people as her immune system was weak anyway and she was in the midst of fighting an infection. Slowly, he dragged himself out of the ICU. His shirt wrinkled and tucked out of his pants; his day old stubble and his bloodshot eyes gave him away – he hadn't slept, spending the night on the chair next to her and not daring to move. He wanted to be there if she woke up, wanted to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be alright.

"Dad!" Alison called when she laid eyes on him. "God, you look like a mess."

"Hey." He offered them a tired smile as he made his way to greet them with a hug. "It's been a rough night, but I'm okay."

"How is she?" Stevie asked, leading her father to the chair near her.

"She's in a lot of pain. They gave her sedatives so she's sleeping now. The infection is quite severe, so they put her on antibiotics, and they might have to take out the portacath and put in a new one, but she needs to get stronger first."

"A new one?" Jason asked.

"I wish they could promise us that her treatment next week, if she is cleared for it, will be the last, but they can't know for sure until the round is over. It's better for her to use the portacath."

Jason nodded, but something inside of him was shaken. It wasn't that he didn't know. He knew fair well how it worked, his dad walked him through this more than once. But he never gave it much thought, he was so certain this was it, this was the time it all ended, where he would learn that his mom was cured, that everything would be alright. But it didn't work that way. It was still too soon to tell, no matter how badly he wanted to hear those words.

"But is she going to be alright?" the girls asked in unison.

"Yes, she is," Will said as he appeared in the hallway. "I just spoke to her doctor and looked at her charts. It's an unfortunate situation and if her body was any stronger she would've been awake and okay now, but the chemo is destroying all that is good while fighting all that is bad and therefore her immune system can't fight the infection and it got worse. But she's being taken care of and she will be okay."

* * *

His head dropped to the side, forcing him to open his eyes and sit up straight. He had been sitting on the same chair, in the exact same position, since the kids left hours before. Elizabeth was deep in sleep, the morphine making her groggy. He looked at her one last time before standing up and leaving her bedside to stretch his muscles.

"Maureen," Henry called as he noticed her sitting in the waiting area. "I thought you drove back to Pittsburg."

"I did. But then the news reported that Elizabeth was here so I turned around and drove back," she replied.

Taken aback, Henry narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because a few years ago your wife made a promise to Mom that she will always look after you. And now I made a promise to her to do the same in case she's unable to."

"What?" Henry asked, blinking the tears that welled in his eyes.

"She told me this the other day, and she made me promise her that I will look after you. You and the kids. So here I am."

"Maureen, I appreciate it," Henry began, resting his hand on her shoulder. "But I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my family. And besides, Elizabeth is going to be okay."

"Of course she is, that woman is a fighter." Maureen smiled, "But you, on the other hand, you look like you've been living on the street."

Rubbing his chin, Henry chuckled. He hadn't looked in the mirror lately, but he spent the past 48 hours in the hospital, wearing the same clothes. He could feel the stubble that grew on his face and was quite certain he had bloodshot eyes and messy hair. He couldn't blame her for calling him out like that, he probably did look like a mess. A mess Elizabeth would scold him for.

"I'm here now and I understand she's asleep and is not expected to wake up in the coming hours. Go home, take a shower, eat something and have a decent sleep. In bed. You need it."

"No," Henry said, shaking his head. "I want to be here when she wakes up."

"I will call you if anything changes. But you don't want her to wake up and see you like this. Go."

Henry sighed. His sister was right. As much as he hated the idea of leaving her alone, it was probably a wise call to freshen up and get some rest. Elizabeth would appreciate him taking care of himself.

Sinking onto the bed after a long shower and a quick snack, Henry couldn't help but stare at her empty side of the bed. He reached for her pillow, holding it close to him as if he was holding her, and inhaling her scent. The smell of her filled his nostrils and he closed his eyes, allowing it to envelop him. She wasn't there, but this was the closest he could get to having her in his arms at that moment.

* * *

Blinking his eyes, he took a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room. The sun was rising by now, and small rays flickered from behind the curtains. He was still holding on to her pillow, but looking at her side of the bed he noticed it was no longer empty. Huddled together, Stevie, Alison and Jason now accommodated the bed with him. A smile spread on his face and he just stared at them for a long moment. He didn't know when they joined him in bed, or how they were even comfortable in that position, but the last time they all slept in their bed was when they were little. It was the fear of losing her that made them small again, like toddlers who were afraid of the storm raging outside.

Careful not to wake them, he got up from the bed and allowed them to sleep. If this was their comfort, he wouldn't dare to take this away from them. _Once she's better_ , he thought, they could do a movie marathon from their bed, for old times' sake. But for now, he would be thankful to just have her back home.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** : There will come a time, she promised her readers, where they won't have to wait months for an update to a story. But alas, she failed to keep that promised, and so months passed, and no updates were published. And now the writer is wondering if her readers can ever forgive her? Will they be loyal to her in spite of her failing them?

She coughed. Her eyes were still closed, but she coughed at the feeling of a foreign object in her throat blocking her airway. Her throat felt dry, like she hadn't had anything to drink in ages.

"Here," she heard a distant voice and then felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Drink," Henry urged, pointing the straw to her mouth.

She needed just a few sips for the feeling to go away. Her eyes landed on him, and even from behind the mask he was wearing, she could see the smile that spread on face, meeting his eyes.

"Better?" he asked, his hand soothing over her arm.

Elizabeth nodded. "Thanks."

"How is the pain? Do you want me to get the nurse for you?"

"No, just…" she pulled his arm when he started to move towards the door. "I'm fine, I want to know what happened."

"You have severe infection. They said… Well, they're still waiting to see how you react to the antibiotics but they think they won't have to remove the portacath."

Elizabeth glanced at her chest. She was used to that thing being there for so long that she barely ever noticed it. She was so against it when her doctor first suggested it, that Henry and Will literally had to beg her to agree. It was better for her, it would save her a lot of pain and reduce the chances of damage caused by the drugs. But it involved a procedure to insert it, and however small and minor, Elizabeth hated the idea of going to the hospital again. She made peace with it eventually when Will reminded her of all the suffering their mom went through because it wasn't available at the time. Now, it was swollen and sore, and she noticed the redness around it. It was definitely a cause for trouble, but then again it also served her well up until that point.

"What day is it?" She asked as she looked back at her husband.

"Thursday, you've been here for three days."

"I have chemo tomorrow, then."

"No," Henry's voice changed slightly, as he knew the news would bring disappointment. "The doctor didn't clear you for chemo, your body is too weak. It was postponed for next week."

Exhaling, she looked at her fingers and avoided his eyes. She really thought this would be it. She needs it to be it, because, and she would never admit it out loud, especially not to him, she wasn't going to get through another round, she couldn't.

"Hey, babe," he called, resting his hand on her chin and forcing her gaze to him. "It's just a bump in the road, and it's only one week. I know you want it to be over, but it will, soon."

"I can't wait for it to end, Henry."

Moving to sit next to her, he pulled her to him carefully and she let her head fall against his chest. "We're almost there, baby. Hang in there," he whispered before letting his lips ghost against her bare scalp from behind the mask he was wearing.

Nodding, she sank closer to him, her fingers running against the plastic of the gown he was wearing. Looking up at his face, she examined him. He looked decent, all things considered.

Catching her eying him, Henry smiled. "Yeah, um… Maureen was here. She said something about a promise you made to my mom? And then a promise she made to you? Anyway, she forced me to go home and shower, said I can't possibly look the way I did for when you opened your eyes."

"I see asking her to take care of you is already paying off." She smirked, her tongue sticking out when he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you said we were going to the nursing home together."

"Well, we are. I'm just making sure you get there."

Henry chuckled and her eyes lit up at the sound. She hadn't heard him laugh in so long, she wasn't aware of how much she missed it.

"What?" he asked when she wouldn't take her eyes off of him.

"I really wish I could kiss you right now."

"Me, too," he replied, his hand gripping her arm to remind her that he was as close to her as he could be. "We're having a make-out session in our bed when you get out of here. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like something worth waiting for," she replied and her head sank against him.

Her eyes felt heavy and she let them fall shut, his fingers running up and down her arm were lulling her back to sleep. _Soon_ , she thought before drifting off.

* * *

"Now that's a nice surprise," Henry said as Isabelle walked into Elizabeth's hospital room. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Hugging him briefly, she smiled at him. Isabelle has known Henry for as long as she had known Elizabeth. She remembered the first time they met like it was yesterday. Elizabeth and Henry were still newlyweds when she started working at the Company and she remembered how excited she was, how her eyes glowed at the mention of her husband's name. When Isabelle finally met Henry, she could see why. Henry was charming from the minute she laid her eyes on him. He was kind and caring and he adored Elizabeth with every fiber of his being. She always wished for herself to find someone like that.

"Had to go to London again, but I'm back now and I came as soon as I heard." Turning to Elizabeth she examined her quickly but didn't look long enough into her eyes. Classic spy move. "How are you?"

"I'll get out of your hair," Henry whispered in Elizabeth's ear and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Elizabeth watched him disappear into the hallway and the minute the door closed she turned to Isabelle, her eyes piercing. "Spill it."

"Bess!"

"Come on, let's skip the small talk. I'm fine. What are you not telling me?"

Chuckling, Isabelle shook her head and sat on the chair Henry just cleared. Elizabeth was a damn good spy, and she should've known better than to try and hide anything from her. "The thing is… I don't know if it's a good idea to tell you?"

"Okay, now you _have_ to tell me."

Sighing, she nodded. The fact that she came to visit meant that she had already made up her mind. "Juliet called me a few days ago."

"Oh?" Elizabeth asked, sitting up straight in bed.

"She wanted to see me, asked if I can come visit her. I wasn't planning on going. We haven't spoken since… Well, since after she was convicted. I saw her once, and I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye again knowing what she did to George."

"What made you go then?"

"I guess I was curious? We haven't spoken in a very long time, and if she decided to call it had to be important? I don't know, maybe I was convincing myself because I still miss her and I can't believe that she did what she did."

Elizabeth nodded. She felt the same way. Truth was, they were best friends, the three of them. She couldn't wrap her head around what had happened, what Juliet _let_ happen. "So?"

"She found out about your cancer," Isabelle said, meeting Elizabeth's eyes. "And she asked me if I can give you this." She pulled out an envelope from her purse and handed it to Elizabeth. "I didn't read it."

Elizabeth nodded. She glanced at the letter and then back at Isabelle and then back at the letter. "Do I want to read this?" she asked.

Shrugging, Isabelle leaned back in her chair. "She seemed sincere when she asked about you. Like she actually cared."

Listening to Isabelle, Elizabeth ran her fingers against the letters that were engraved on the envelope. Her name, or more so her nickname, written in fine letters and blue ink against the plain paper. The last time she received a letter from Juliet was the night she realized what she had done. She still kept that letter, hidden somewhere where she wouldn't see it all the time, but in a place she could find it had she wanted to. She carefully opened it, taking a deep breath as she pulled the letter out. Flashbacks of that night ran before her eyes and she couldn't help but wonder how everything could've been completely different. She thought of George then, and how he was wise and kind, how he made her laugh and how deeply she missed him. Isabelle squeezed her hand then, a subtle reminder that she was still there, that they were missing this friendship together.

" _Dear Bess,_

 _I am writing this letter with shaking hands and tears in my eyes. I still remember the day you came into the office crying. You just received the results of the test and you were carrying that awful gene. I remember that Isabelle and I told you this was probably nothing, that you wouldn't get sick._

 _I came across a newspaper a few days ago, and a picture of you with a scarf on your head covered the front page. I stumbled and fell at the sight of it. It couldn't be true. But then the headline mentioned your disease and it was suddenly so real._

 _We came up with a plan, you always needed to have plans. You said it was what helped you stay focused. I remember you telling us that when your parents died you didn't have a plan, and you felt so lost. So we played along, although both Isabelle and I were certain this plan will never see the light of day. Because you couldn't get sick, not you. Not the strong, independent woman we knew so well. I just can't believe that this actually saw the light of day, that your worst fear came true._

 _I know that what happened put a wedge between us. That I wasn't there to fill my end of the bargain. But I wanted you to know that you are in my prayers, and I wish you nothing but the best. You are the strongest person I have ever met, Bess. You are. If anyone can beat cancer's ass, it's you. And I know you will._

 _Get well soon._

 _Juliet."_

Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she folded the letter and took a deep breath. Juliet was one of her best friends, but the way she betrayed her was unforgivable. It didn't make it hurt any less, though, because no matter how much Elizabeth was angry with her, she still cherished all the time they spent together and all that she'd done for her before everything changed. She was supposed to be around for this one, just as she'd been around for all her pregnancies, for every spill and spit of her kids. Just as Elizabeth was there for Juliet's wedding, for the passing of her parents. They shared so much, yet in a blink of an eye it was all gone.

"Is it wrong that I wish she would've been here now? Elizabeth asked.

"No," Isabelle shook her head. "It's human. And I wish that too."

* * *

"Are you sure you can do this?" Henry asked, his eyes examining her.

Elizabeth exhaled with frustration and handed him her shirt. She wanted to say yes to his question, she wanted to be able to get dressed herself, but her body was so weak she could barely even hold the shirt, and it hurt to lift her arm, so essentially, she couldn't do this. Not without his help.

Henry stepped closer to her, pulling the shirt down her head. He held her arm, one by one, and tucked them into the sleeves. He moved then to put her pants on and her sneakers and finally her coat. Glancing at her for a moment, as if checking that everything was intact, he nodded and wrapped an arm around her waist to help her stand on her feet. He led her to the wheelchair and helped her to settle against it when he noticed the stray tear that rolled down her cheek.

Turning to face her, he knelt in front of her, meeting her crystal clear eyes. "I know what you're thinking, and I want you to stop."

"Henry…"

"No," he said, squeezing her hand. "Being sick doesn't make you weak. You'll be up on your feet again in no time. And I don't mind pampering you."

She nodded, reaching to wipe her tears. "Okay."

Leaning towards her, he pressed his lips to hers, sucking gently. "See? I couldn't do that a few days ago. Baby steps, Elizabeth."

Smiling, she ran her hand through his hair and pulled him to her again. "I'm going to need more convincing," she whispered against his lips.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N** : This would've been ready sooner, I guess, if it weren't for stuff getting in the way. Took a lot of time to find the inspiration and I finally found it when watching Jane the Virgin, so there's that, and also "I'm Gonna Love You Through It" by Martina Mcbride. Anyway, I think you waited long enough for this, so here you go. Reviews are a blessing!

* * *

When Elizabeth walked down the hall of the second floor, she didn't think anyone was awake. It was rather late and with her latest trip to the hospital, and everyone hovering around her, she knew they were all exhausted. But as she passed Stevie's room, she couldn't help but stop at her door to listen carefully. Her daughter wasn't asleep, far from it. She heard the soft sobs that were muffled by a pillow and her eyes welled with tears.

She knocked softly on the door, but there was no reply. Carefully, she pushed it open and padded towards the bed, where Stevie was curled in a ball, crying. When her hands rested on Stevie's back, she jumped, wiping her eyes quickly and pulling away from her mom.

"Mom," she started, sitting up straight and frowning her brows. "You…"

"Shh, come here," Elizabeth said, pulling Stevie into her embrace and wrapping a solid arm around her. "It's okay to cry," she whispered as she brushed her fingers through her hair.

"No, it's not," Stevie shook her head. "I'm supposed to comfort you. Support _you_. Not the other way around."

Elizabeth smiled and reached to wipe a stray tear from her daughter's cheek. "Baby, that is not your job. I appreciate the fact that you care so much, that you want to support me, but it's not your job. It's mine, and for as long as I'm alive, I'm going to do it."

"Mom, you just got out of the hospital, you shouldn't…"

Pressing a kiss to her hair, Elizabeth ran her hand down Stevie's arm. "Let me worry about that. Tell me what happened."

Sighing, Stevie crawled into her mom, wrapping her own arm around her and resting her head against her chest. "Jareth and I broke up… And it's not, it's not even about him."

"It's not?" Elizabeth asked, glancing down at her.

"I knew it was coming. Truth was, I wanted it too. We weren't right for each other anymore."

"So?"

"He finished packing today and left. And I stood in that empty apartment and all I could think about was how someone that was just here is now gone. There was no trace of him ever being there."

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth closed her eyes. "Sweetie, I'm not going anywhere."

Lifting her head, Stevie stared at her mom. Sometimes, it felt like she was seeing her reflection in the mirror. They shared the same eyes, the same features. She looked so much like her, there was no mistaking she was her daughter. It was painful, though, because her mom looked older now, weaker. Without her hair, and with everything that the chemo and the cancer had taken from her, she barely looked like herself anymore. The only thing that remained were those deep blue eyes that were glowing even in the darkness of the room. Those eyes that were always kind and loving, always searching hers to reassure her, those remained the same. Even cancer couldn't take that away.

"You don't know that," she said with sorrow.

"I do, in fact," Elizabeth replied, offering her a small smile. "Because even if I don't beat this, I will forever be in your heart. I will forever look after you, from wherever I am. And you can always close your eyes and feel me next to you."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

She descended the stairs to the dim light in the kitchen. Looking around, she spotted him sitting by the kitchen isle, his head buried in the newspaper.

"Will?" she called and he looked up, smiling at her. "I know Henry is in a meeting, but I don't need a babysitter. What are you doing here?"

"I'm actually here to talk to you," he replied.

"About?"

"A while ago you told me you can help me with a job at Walter Reed," he started.

Elizabeth smiled and took the seat next to him. "You want the job?"

"If it's still available, yes, I would."

"Okay," she nodded, reaching for her phone. She turned to him when she hung up, "You have an interview tomorrow."

Will chuckled. He wasn't expecting anything else from her. He didn't know if it was because she was Secretary of State or because it was _her_ , but people rarely ever said no to her, and somehow she had connections everywhere. When she first offered him the position, he refused. He was unwilling to give up the job he had, not to be working at the same place without helping those who are really in need. But when he found himself in the middle of nowhere, when he got the call from her that told him she was sick, he realized none of that mattered. He had been running away from family ever since their parents died, too afraid to lose the people he loved again. It was easier to stay away. It was easier to try and save everyone else, even though he knew none of them were ever going to be their mom. But the news hit him hard. He suddenly realized that while he was busy running away from his family, he still had one, one that he wasn't part of. And he might lose that one, too. It was why he didn't hesitate and got on the first plane home and then to the US to see her. It was why Sophie and Annie joined him, and he knew there was no going back. Not to Syria, and maybe not even to London.

"Thanks," he said.

"You want to tell me what changed your mind?" Elizabeth asked as she filled her cup of coffee.

Looking back at the newspaper, he avoided her eyes. He didn't know how to tell her that her near death experience, that wasn't even over yet, had made him realize that he shouldn't be anywhere else.

When he didn't respond, Elizabeth sat down next to him. "If my cancer has brought you home… We at least managed to get one good thing from this sucker."

"The other good thing will be when you beat this," he said, meeting her eyes then.

* * *

Elizabeth really hated their bathroom floor. She didn't mind it before. Before, when she didn't spend hours sitting on it because it was the closest she could be to the toilet. Now, she couldn't stand the way the tiles looked, and mostly the way they felt against her sore body.

She leaned against the wall after emptying her stomach again and closed her eyes, waiting for the wave of nausea to either die down or send her leaning against the toilet again.

She felt the cold towel against her sweaty forehead and opened her eyes to see _him_. Faintly smiling at him, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, feeling his pulse beating against her.

"Last time, babe," he said with a smile.

But Elizabeth couldn't hear those words without feeling the lump in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears quickly, she was too weak to swallow the feeling before it showed. His eyes darkened in an instant and he shook his head to himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"No," she replied, "it's okay. I'm okay."

Sliding to the floor next to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to rest against his chest. "I thought we were optimistic together, what happened?" he muttered against her.

She shrugged, looking down at her feet and fumbled with the fabric of her pants.

"Elizabeth," Henry called softly, his hand wrapping around her arm and squeezing her.

"It's nothing, Henry. Really."

He didn't have time to protest the fact that she was shutting him out. She lurched forward, out of his hold, and leaned against the toilet. She coughed and heaved and then her eyes shot tight as the pain coursed through her. It was the same every time. Every single treatment, her body no longer able to bear the drugs that were slowly destroying the good cells along with the bad. It was an effort, to throw up, and the more the treatments progressed the more it pained her. After everything she had been through in those last months, Elizabeth could feel every muscle and every bone in her body ache and there really was nothing that could ease that pain.

His hand moved in circles on her back, trying to soothe her through it. When the coughing stopped, he tugged at her hand and pulled her back into his embrace, his head resting on top of hers as she curled up against him. He still wanted her to answer his question, but maybe now wasn't the time to push her. Once she was better, he told himself, he would ask again. If.

* * *

Elizabeth was pacing along the wall that held so many books. She must've read some of the ones that were there, but Henry was in charge for most of them, and while she always said she was going to find the time and read the really good ones that he recommended, she never actually got around to doing that. It was funny how life always seemed to get in the way of everything – she always had somewhere to be, something to do. Everything was always much more important than just sitting back and reading a good book. Even more so since she took the position as Secretary of State. She preferred to spend the time she had with her family, rather than with her nose stuck in a book. She had no regrets now, not about the choices she'd made. But perhaps, if she had taken the time to actually relax in this shared space instead of always working, maybe those books wouldn't have felt so foreign. But as her fingers ran across the thick covers, she could see Henry, with his glasses perched on his nose, his eyes skimming through the words that turned into sentences and told stories he would later whisper to her in the dim light of their bedroom.

She felt the sting in her eyes but she didn't resist it and the tears began to stream down her face. She had the scan the next day, and while it might be over soon, she suddenly realized it was never really going to be over. It hit her a few days back, when she was hooked to the IV in the hospital and the poison she came to hate so much was dripping into her vein. It was like a sudden lightning strike, and she remembered how her mom came home that one day with the big news that she was no longer ill. Elizabeth was still very young, 5 or 6 maybe, so she didn't remember much of that time, probably too young to even understand what was happening. But she remembered it now, so so clearly, how her mom was sick all the time and her dad explained to her that mom was a fighter and she was going to be okay. When she got the clean results of the scan they went out to celebrate and she remembers how happy and joyful her parents were, how she hadn't seen them like that in a long time.

It was raining the day her mom came home from the doctor's office, as if the sky clouded over the bad news. She was 12 then, and she was old enough to understand what was going on. What she didn't remember was that this had happened before. It can happen again, her father told her, because mom's body is prone to this illness, and there was nothing they could do except wait and pray. But even then, Elizabeth knew that luck doesn't strike twice.

Startled by the sound of the keys turning in the lock of the front door, she pulled herself together and wiped the tears from her eyes quickly. She straightened her shirt, and reached for her glasses to try and mask her puffy eyes. But Henry walked into the room, and even with her back turned to him, he knew she had been crying. He placed his bag on the desk and shed his coat on the chair. Striding towards her, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her flat against his chest.

"Helen Keller once said 'optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.' You live by that statement every single day," Henry whispered.

He felt her shudder against him and her body shook as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. "Tell me," he said.

"No," she shook her head.

Turning her around, he removed her glasses and stared into her eyes. "Because?"

"Because you're not going to like what I have to say. And I promised myself I'll be strong. For you."

He pressed a kiss to her temple and his thumb grazed her skin as he wiped her tears. "We are not doing that, we agreed, remember?"

As more tears spilled from her eyes again she swallowed hard. "I caused you enough pain. _This_ caused you enough pain."

He tightened his hold on her, as if to make a point. "You are here, and this gives me all the strength I need to handle everything that comes our way."

"What if we have to do it again? What if it's never really over?" she dared to ask out loud, though her voice was so low he barely heard her.

He was reminded then, too, of the time she told him about her mom. Not the pieces he found out during the first couple of years of them being together. But that one night when they sat by the fireplace, wrapped in wool blankets that shielded them from the storm that raged outside. He wasn't quite sure what made her open up to him, but for two hours, she told him every single detail about her parents, every memory she had engraved in mind. But as the sun rose the next morning, they never spoke of this again and whatever it was she told him that night remained with him, a memory he now, somehow, shared with her.

"Then I'm going to love you through it again," he replied.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N** : I know it's been a while, but as I said before I had a rough patch of struggle and well now I am back? Sort of. I've been listening to "I'm Gonna Love You Through It" on repeat for quite a while and I realized I wasn't ready to say goodbye to this story yet. That said, next chapter might be the last one of this story. Don't worry, I have an idea for a bran new angst multi chapter story that will supply your monthly (lol more like quarterly) cry. So for now, here is me not letting go. I hope you'll like it. Btw, the story reached 300 reviews which is really cool! Keep them coming, I'm greedy ;)

* * *

Elizabeth didn't really know what triggered it at first. Maybe it was the stress of waiting for the scans, or the fact that she knew she was burning with fever. It might have been the fact that the bra Henry bought her after the surgery tore apart when she tried to take it off. Either way, she found herself on the bathroom floor, her blouse next to her, along with what was left of the bra. Topless, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry, her body shaking and shivering both from the sobs and the cold. Did she even need a reason to cry? Couldn't it just be that she'd had enough?

Undoing his tie as he walked into the bedroom, Henry had every intention of taking a shower and going straight to bed. It had been a hard week, and today was just the worst. He was really getting tired of explaining to people why his wife was still capable of maintaining her job as Secretary of State, while fighting breast cancer, as if he owed someone anything. He hated talking about it, especially with people who weren't family. They didn't know half the things they'd been through in the past months, they didn't get to judge. But Henry knew better than to try and educate others, so he just smiled and replied politely to their questions, until finally it was time to go home. Going home meant he got to come back to her, and that alone was enough to make him feel better.

But he wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting to find her half naked on their bathroom floor. He wasn't expecting to find her crying, not now. They were right at the end, there was nothing he could possibly think of that would make her cry. But this wasn't the time to think it through. He rushed over to her and placed a warm hand on her back, feeling her burning skin under his touch.

"Baby?" he called, lifting her chin so that he could get a glimpse of her eyes. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she muttered as she wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "It's nothing."

He sighed. It wasn't nothing; that he knew. But he was much more upset about why she was so warm and shivering than why she was crying. He walked back into their bedroom and got her sweatshirt and a pair of flannel pants. Helping her get dressed, he carried her to their bed and placed her under the covers. He placed his hand on her forehead, and shook his head. Opening the drawer of her nightstand, he pulled out the thermometer.

"Put this under your tongue," he instructed, handing it to her.

When it beeped, he glanced at the screen. "103. I'm calling your doctor."

"No, please," she pleaded, pulling his hand to try and stop him. "I don't want to go to the hospital."

"Elizabeth, you're sick. And with all that the chemo has done, you can't risk having such high fever. I'm calling him."

"Henry, please. Just get me something for the fever. I don't want to go."

He brought her a glass of water and a pill and handed it to her. "If it doesn't help, we are going."

Nodding, she drank the water and fell back against the mattress. After changing into his own flannel pants, Henry climbed under the covers next to her. He tugged at her arm and then wrapped an arm around her.

"Come here," he said softly, pulling her to his embrace.

She rested her head on his chest and snuggled closer to him, her arm draped on top of him, his own arms circling her.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said again. "Really, nothing happened. Just dumb things that piled together, but nothing big. Nothing exciting."

There was a long pause before she continued. "Maybe it was just that, the feeling that I can't do this anymore."

Exhaling loudly, he tightened his grip around her. Truth was, he couldn't do it anymore either. He was staying strong for her, because he needed her to fight this, but it was horrible to watch her fade in front of him. He couldn't stand seeing her in such pain, without being able to help her at all. With the constant fear that he would actually lose her to this, it was just too much. But he would never say it, not to her. He needed her to stay strong, and if he was the source of her strength, then he couldn't let go.

"You can do some more of that crying, if that helps," he offered, looking down to meet her eyes.

She shrugged at his words and looked away as fresh tears filled her eyes. She didn't know if it helped. Probably not, but maybe just a little bit. Most of it felt stupid, because she was crying without an actual obvious reason. Then again, having cancer seemed to be enough of a reason to be crying. It wasn't that she felt sorry for herself, because she didn't. If anything, she felt sorry for everyone around her, and especially Henry, for having to go through this because of what she had. She felt tired, and weak, and like she lost any glimpse of who she used to be before this whole thing took her over. Sure, she got used to the sight of her naked chest with scars where there once used to be breasts; to her bald head that made her look much smaller; to the dark circles around her eyes from the fatigue. It didn't mean she liked what she saw. This wasn't her. Even after her parents died, she was strong. She had to be, she had Will to take care of, and she was determined to move on with her life, to become something, _someone_ , to make her parents proud. And she did. She became the Secretary of State. But who was she now? Now that the cancer had invaded her body.

Henry pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, forcing her to close her eyes at the feeling. The tears spilled, rolling down her cheeks. "When I said you can cry, I didn't mean shut me out. I'm here."

Elizabeth held onto him tight and listened to the beating of his heart beneath her. It was soothing in a way, the constant beat. At least something was expectable, she thought. She allowed it to lull her to sleep, the fever had drained her completely. It was warm in the nest that he built for her in their bed, and she knew she was home, right there in his arms.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning there was a gift bag resting on her nightstand. Sitting, she reached for it and pulled out a brand new bra, just like the one that tore the night before. Henry had just emerged from the bathroom and she smiled at him.

"What is this for?" she asked.

He walked over to her, his fingers gently stroking her face. "If I can fix some of the things that bring you to tears, I will."

He leaned closer to her, ready to kiss her, when she moved away. "I'm sick, remember?"

"Don't care," he breathed on her lips and then kissed her slowly.

She ran a hand through his hair and then pressed him more closely to her, pulling him with her as she lay back against the pillow. He climbed on top of her, their lips moving together as heavy breaths escaped them.

When he pulled away, she took a moment to look at him, really study his features. Frowning, she ran her thumb against the lines that formed between his eyes. "You shouldn't shut me out, either," she said.

He rolled over to his side of the bed. "It's nothing I can't handle. And honestly, compared to what you're going through, it really is _nothing_."

"Henry, I have to deal with what this is doing to me inside, but you have to deal with the damages it's causing outside. It's okay to give up sometimes, to break down."

"I don't need to break down. I need to be able to take this away from you, to make you feel better."

"You do. I don't know how I would've done this without you."

"Babe, you're the strongest person I know."

"Well, it doesn't feel that way. Not anymore. Not with this thing inside of me."

Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it tight. "Together, then," he said.

 _Together._


End file.
